


New Divide

by My_Dear_Watson



Series: Locked Out of Eden [2]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Enemies to Enemies with Benefits to Friends to It's Complicated to Lovers, Fix-It of Sorts, Spoilers, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-04-19 01:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 80,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14225817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Dear_Watson/pseuds/My_Dear_Watson
Summary: Jacob's conditioning taught the Deputy three things: survival, resilience, and to have a backup plan when fighting an enemy stronger than you. That backup plan was keeping John alive as a bargaining chip. She survives the "Only You" ordeal after her final confrontation with Joseph and is determined to go through with it. But Joseph isn't happy about John's failure to let her Atone and closes Eden's gates to his brother. John sets out on a plan for revenge, and both he and the Deputy realize the easiest way to stop Joseph is to work together.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a gift for a friend. When the game first came out we were talking about a theory we had based on something the developers had said about John and his belief/doubt in Joseph's beliefs. It didn't come to fruition, so we figured why the Hell not. What we ended up with is a half kinda-sorta-fix-it fic.

The second “Only You” drifted into Nicolette’s head as she, Whitehorse, Hudson and Pratt and her mindfulness started to fade, she figured this was all a cruel joke. If it was a nightmare that she was about to wake up from, she’d be lucky… but also invest in sleeping pills- the kinds that kept you awake at all costs.

Joseph had most likely planned the whole thing. He must’ve had someone making sure that song was playing on each damn station as they left.

She tried to block out the Sheriffs voice as she scrambled for the door handle. _Your people are weak. They need to die. Cull the herd. Cull the herd._

She risked a glance back at Pratt, only to find he was further gone than she was. There was that madness in his eyes that he hadn’t faced yet. 

He made eye contact with her, and then set her eyes on the gun at the Sheriffs hip, then back.

She knew what he was getting at. They had been through too much of the same shit for her to not understand.

“You’re stronger,” was all he said, and she _understood._ He wanted to harm them as little as she did. And he knew she had mastered all of the shit that came with the condition more than he did. It was enough to put a knot in her stomach that he was giving her permission to kill him to save the lot of them.She didn’t have much time to handle things. Without a second thought, she took the gun, aimed at Pratt and pulled the trigger before her vision was nearly entirely lost to the red bleeding into it 

Hudson screamed. Nicolette was losing her grip on reality enough to not know if there were words or not.

She did see Whitehorse set her with a panicked look with something behind it, and another glance made her realize what it was. He _knew_. He slammed his hand against the radio controls. “... Rook!”

She gave him one final look. “No National Guard. No army. Get out.” Her vision went even more red. With one last look at them, she unhooked her seatbelt and unlatched the car door. She left herself fall out, weirdly relieved that the Sheriff helped push her at the last minute.

She hit the ground rolling, and then all was lost in a haze.

_Kill the weak. Cull the herd. Kill the weak. Cull the herd._

And then her conscious mind was entirely lost to her.

* * *

 

When she woke, she found herself in the middle of a large outpost. Dead bodies were strewn everywhere, covered in blood. There were pools of it scattered in other places.. She swallowed hard. With her heart in her chest, she looked for a flag- anything to tell her if she had just gone after her own people, or she had lucked out and taken out more cultists. When she saw that damned cross on a flag a few rooftops away,she let out a relieved breath.

The relief didn’t last long. 

It was in that moment that she realized she thought she had been cleared of Jacob’s influence, but clearly she wasn’t. She had worked so hard for nothing. She had thought she was free.

Well, if that wasn’t the goddamn slogan of her time in Hope County. Like every damned thing that happened so far, it was rigged against her. 

She got to her feet slowly, her body protesting all the way. She had varying aches, and part of her arm was bleeding like it had been grazed. The cultist bastards had nearly gotten the better of her. She wondered if the non-Chosen bastards knew what the others had to go through. She immediately shook her head when she realized she had grouped herself in with the madmen of the cult- well, the lesser madmen, but madmen all the same. She figured once she did that, she would be far more gone than she ever wanted to be. She’d be an easier new target for Joseph.

_Joseph._

The bastard probably thought she was dead if that damned song was on the radio on purpose.

There was suddenly hope in that realization. If he thought she was dead, that gave her time to prepare, to regroup and go _end him._ Again, the hope stopped there. After everything, she had started to wonder if the bastard was right all along. If Judgement Day was coming, and she had something to do with it.

_Fuck._

Well, she’d just have to cross that bridge when she got to it.

And god damn it, she was going to get to it. Soon.

If Joseph was going to play dirty, she was going to play dirty right back.

It was only fair. It was what the fucker deserved.  She was lucky that she had thought ahead for just such an occasion. 

She went to work casing the outpost. She came across a medkit and did what she could to her own injuries. She got ammo and a new pistol and knife off of one of the bodies. She found herself nearby a radio during her search and ached to call someone- anyone, the Ryes, Grace, Jerome, Dutch, anyone to show that she was still there and still ready to fight. Another part of her refused the thought. If she contacted them, the wrong people could find out. They could come after her. Worse yet, they would go after the ones she contacted.

She was alone. She was a fucking _ghost._ It was an advantage as much of a disadvantage. She swore again, and leaving the vicinity of the radio nearly physically hurt. She’d rip the fucker limb from limb. She just needed to figure out how, now that the entire resistance was next to useless now. She nearly stopped in her tracks.

The panic about that song had nearly made her forgotten about the biggest damned ace up her sleeve.

Now if she could only remember where she was so she could _get it_.

She needed to find a landmark as soon as she could.

 

* * *

 

It took her a few hours, but Nicolette made it back to the river and found the right dock that the prepper-stash-turned-vault wasn’t far from. She adjusted course, and after a few more minutes, found her intended target. She found the hatch door and shot the lock off the chain she had put there days ago. She tossed the chain aside, opened the hatch door and descended the ladder.

Now her goal was just beyond the keycard locked door. She retrieved the card from her boot, unlocked it and it swung open. Part of her wished that her Only You ‘mode’ was still intact, but again, part of her insisted that no, now she needed the bastard.

There was a pained grunt from someone on the other side. A chained up hand reached up to block the light coming directly into their eyes.

She stepped aside, more to add insult to actual injury.

The bastard’s hands were bloodier than when she had last left him. He had tried to escape. _Fucking idiot._ She gave a cautionary glance at his restraints. Still looked intact, no tampering was evident. At least there was that.

“You look like shit,” her prisoner supplied, wheeze evident in his voice. He still hadn't recovered entirely from the dogfight. Another blessing and curse. 

She offered a tight lipped smile before she walked over to him. Without breaking eye contact, she pulled the knife she had gotten off the cultist and twirled on her fingers. “Hello to you too, John,” she greeted. 

He gritted his teeth to stifle a pained groan, but it faded into a laugh. "Meeting my brother didn't go well, then?" he quipped. 

She pointedly ignored him and leaned forward. “You and I are gonna have a talk.”


	2. Harder to Breathe

Nicolette’s journey across the county had been a clusterfuck of picking a direction and running. She had ‘met’ John first, and then Faith. Jacob had _found her_ third.

The order that they had died- or seemed to, was far different.

It had been a tactical decision at first. She knew Hudson was in immediate danger, but she also knew Hudson could handle herself. It had looked like John needed Hudson alive to spout his lies, so she was at least safe that way. That marked Hudson on the bottom of the priorities list. Saving Whitehorse- the man that had been more of a father to her in a few short weeks than her own damned father had been high on said list, even if it had been extremely self-serving. She had justified it with ‘if we get rid of the drug shit, that’s less people going insane and thinking clearly to help us.’ She had assumed that Pratt was dead, so he wasn’t even on the list- what a mistake that had been, even if it wasn’t exactly incorrect.

Faith had been the first to fall by her hands.

She had paced herself with Faith. She wanted to see what the entire family was about first more than anything. And then Faith had taken the prison, had Burke murder Virgil, then kill himself. She had almost made Earl suffer same with the Sheriff, and all bets were off. She had taken a sick amount of pride once Faith had fallen back into the water, broken and bloodied, and she had pounced and held the girl down to ensure she was dead. She was disgusted with herself when her mind had flushed out the remaining Bliss, but it still meant it was _over_. It didn't stop her from  promptly vomiting because she hadn’t thought she would ever do something so insane.

A single day had passed after that when the first of Jacob’s hunters had sent an arrow into her goddamn leg.

Her life and her entire _being_ had gone downhill from there. After they cut her loose after the first trial she did things quickly to gain Jacob’s ire and get him to get hunters to come after her. She wanted it over with because he had seemed like he was going to go down easier than Faith had. How wrong she had been. How _foolish_ that assumption had been. It only meant that Jacob got into her head quicker. He came for her again and again, and kept her in that damned simulation for days. He had chipped away most of her sanity, most of any damned optimism she had about her and the county’s fate from trial after trial. By the third capture, she knew how to kill men tens of dozens of ways, because she had learned them in some fucked up Groundhog’s Day from Hell  of Jacob's creation. And then he had made her take Eli from everyone. When she snapped out of that particular haze she had admittedly enjoyed hunting Jacob down. She couldn't even blame the Bliss, nor did she want to. When she got the better of him, she didn’t even care that he had mentioned wanting to be caught because dying for Joseph was his role in the damn oncoming apocalypse.  She had emptied half of her remaining clip into his chest, and the rest into his head. She didn’t even care that she was doing exactly what he had wanted. He still needed to die. It hadn’t occurred to her how fucked up of a thing to do it was until much later. She was still in that ‘Only You’ mindset, even hours after it should’ve been done. In hindsight, after that she should’ve known that damned song was going to haunt her. She had tossed the gun away, found the nearest house and locked herself inside for a couple of days after that. She had gone back to the base expecting to be shot on sight, but they had allowed her into Eli’s service. The guilt ate at her as the minutes ticked by, and she locked herself away again for a while.

But then… then came John.

She had considered him all talk at first. For the first time, she hadn’t been entirely wrong. He _was_ all talk, for the most part- at least where _she_ was concerned. Sure, he sent people after her and there were the moments of physical harm, but he never went as far as he said he would. Or maybe that was her newly enhanced pain threshold talking. There was always the promise of things he was going to do _later_.  Of course, ‘later’ had come in that church. John _brought the mountain to Mohammed_ with completely unnecessary pomp and circumstance. The whole thing had been absurd and she had initially had the courage to open her mouth to tell him so, until he had fucking skinned Nick’s chest and she realized that it wasn't like the other encounters with him. Just like that, she made the decision that he was going to be the first one she was going to _delight_ in killing. And then Jerome had spared her the trouble of trying to make it over to him and shoving her hidden knife in his neck by switching the Word of Joseph out with his gun safe. She had grabbed the gun, fired at John... and _missed._

Then, in some extra fucked up moment of desperation, she had thought of that damned song that Jacob had drilled into her head and ruined, and it had _helped in getting the adrenaline going._  She had charged after John and the cultists when they tried to escape with him. Half of them were dead by the time they had reached the truck. She had gotten another gun in her beeline for a nearby truck, heard John scream something about an airfield, started up the car, gunned the engine and followed them.

Worse yet, it was because of that damned song playing in her head that the dogfight that had followed was barely five minutes long. She had been determined to shoot him down, only to snap out of it strangely enough once she hit a certain altitude, hatched the start of an extremely stupid plan, shot out Affirmation's wings and bailed out of the plane and parachuted back to the ground once he had also bailed.  He made it to the ground first, but he had injured his leg in the fight and was limping, so it didn't take long to catch up to him on foot. 

And when she did, she had pinned him to the ground. And then came her first mistake. She had _let him talk_.  As expected, he was all dramatic hand gestures and a speech: ‘what if Joseph’s right?’ and all that. They had acknowledged their awkward stalemate, and he had yanked her down and kissed her as what she had figured was some last ditch effort to have the last word or distract her enough to kill her. But he didn't, so she had slapped him and that had been that. But the confusion it had caused was enough to mute some of the adrenaline in her system. She wasn't half dead on her feet, the song was a distant thought, and suddenly killing him even after all he had done seemed wrong. She was so sick of killing, so sick of violence. She had prepared to punch him out and call it a day, until a new idea had hit her like a train. 

 _Get John's key. Dump the bastard in the nearest bunker. Make it look like she killed him. Make Joseph think he was dead. Handle the shit in John's bunker. Profit._ The Father enjoyed fucking with her, she could fuck with him right back. And so she shot John in the side and above one of his knees- minor grazes that would heal quick but hurt like Hell, then pistol whipped him. He went down hard- almost to the point where she hardly believed it had worked out so easily.

By some miracle, they had ended up not far from the bunker owed by a the guy who was either _into some shit_ or was ready to restrain potential intruders had set up shop. She had dragged him all the way to the bunker, dropped him down the entrance, then dragged him over to where the setup with the cuffs had been and she had layered the restraints with chain from the boathouse she had raided first. She had insisted it was Jacob’s influence again when she had found a glass jar nearby and shattered the damn thing on the floor, making sure the pieces weren’t large enough to make some sort of weapon in and of themselves, but enough to hurt if he moved around and caught them in his skin. She’d let him live until his usefulness ended, but it would be a literally painful last few days for him. She took his bunker key, locked and chained every single door behind her- to make a point to him about his own mistake in his own bunker when he had been foolish and left every door between her and himself unlocked- and left.

Lucky for her, the plan had paid off. One of the cultists had seen her dump his seemingly lifeless body down the shaft and come up with bloodied clothing- a mix of hers and his from the fight. Said Peggie had apparently assumed she had cut him up or something else far more morbid, because that was the rumor that followed for the next couple of days.

Joseph had _invited her_ to his compound with a promise of _a conversation_ once the news had apparently reached him. She had initially made him wait. It was oddly satisfying to keep the ball in her court and  make the prick wait on her terms. So she worked up the plan. If things got ugly, she’d reveal that the last seal hadn’t been broken after all, John was alive- just not well, and if Joseph tried anything in a fight, she’d end John in Joseph’s name. After all, Jacob had been the one insisting he had to die for Joseph and for the plan to work. John had said nothing of the sort, and seemed far too pretentious to throw his life away so fucking easily.

She hadn’t counted on Joseph playing nicely, citing God watching as he went. She had demanded the release of her friends from their Blissed state as well as her, Pratt, Hudson and Whitehorse's safe exit, and he had agreed. She expected a double cross- just not five minutes after they were apparently home free.

And yet there they were, post-double cross, and now it was she who was going to return to the church for her own brand of revenge- or _negotiation_ at bare minimum.  She had to wonder what that meant for Joseph’s prophecies. Part of her had started to believe them, and that had done a number on her brain.  

So now there the pair of them were, staring each other down in the mess. "We're going on a trip," she pointed out. 

"To business already?" John asked. "I'd like to catch up more. I have been down here for _days_. How’s Nick doing?” he asked. “How’s his and Kim’s little runt?”

“Fuck you.”

“Bet you wish he wanted to do that to you,” John countered. “You should’ve seen your face when I went after him first during your... _botched Atonement_. I mean, I knew it would get a reaction, but that look in your eyes? _Mm._ You know, I had you pegged for a lot of sins, but going against _a commandment_? Coveting your neighbor’s _husband_ -”

“I will shoot you," she cut him off with a snarl. "Then again, you’d probably enjoy it too much. Does your brother even have commandments?”

John shrugged. “He adapts.”

“Doesn’t that prove he’s not getting everything from those visions? Is God really talking to a guy who can’t come up with everything on his own?”

“ _Your_ God’s word has elements of the rest, doesn’t it?”  John countered.

“I’m an atheist," she replied without missing a beat. 

John stared at her for a while, and then let out that same, now-familiar mocking laugh. It was marred by short breaths. Good. At least his body still apparently hurt like Hell. “Of course you are,” he mused. “That explains a lot. Does _Jerome_ know that?”

“He does. And it doesn’t mean shit. Just means I’m not drinking the Kool-Aid in any fucking case.”

He scoffed again. “I liked you better when you didn’t talk much.”

“You should try that sometime.”

He grinned, then looked around. “So, what brings you back to your… kinky little abode here? I appreciated the water bottles and jar. Wouldn't have taken you for someone who treated prisoners nicely- or took prisoners at all. What’s this little chat about?”

“More one sided. Need to check something. Get up.”

“You think you can order me around so easily? No. Fix this on your own," he countered.  

 She crossed the room in a couple of bounds, grabbed his arm and hauled him upright, and he steadied himself at the unexpected weight distribution on instinct.  She hummed, more to counter some of his own mocking, then produced her knife from her boot again.

John glanced from it to her. “You returning the favor I did against you and _your boyfriend_?”

She ignored the comment. She wanted to scoff when the bastard smirked and raised his chin so his throat was entirely exposed to her- daring her to slit it. She had to fight the urge to take him up on it. She reached behind him instead and went to pick the lock with the knifetip.

John glanced over his shoulder. "Well well, Deputy. Color me confused for once with your antics-”

“God, do you ever shut up?” she hissed.

He smirked again and opened his mouth to respond. 

She didn't give him the satisfaction. She merely elbowed him hard in the face. His head connected with the wall hard, and he was out like a light again.

“Should’ve just done that in the first place,” she hissed to herself. She glanced to the side at the workbench in the corner. There was duct tape hanging from one of the pegs on the board. She retrieved it, tore a piece off with her teeth and shoved it over his mouth, pressing a few times to make sure that taking it off later would hurt like a bitch. She surveyed her work, then realized that her plan wasn't going to work if he still had that damned plane-adorned jacket of his, so she shucked it off of him and threw it in the corner so he was down to his shirt and jeans. Sure, it was _his Look_ , but from a distance it looked like regular plain clothes- and that was what she needed. Finally satisfied, she produced the burlap sack she had nabbed from a nearby farm and shoved it over his head. She unlocked him from the rig keeping him on the wall and started to drag him towards the ladder. She gave it a forlorn look, then looked back at him. Well, now came the physically hard part.

_Here we go._

* * *

 

After a fair bit of difficulty, she managed to carry him up the ladder. Within a couple of more minutes she had loaded him into the pickup truck she had commandeered, turned it around, and started driving to Joseph's compound.

A long, gloriously (considering her company) silent drive later, she had pulled up in Joseph's Compound, mere meters from the Church. By some _miracle_ she had managed to keep her head down and no one was the wiser getting there. Now came the big event. She shook John. “Wake up.” When he didn’t budge, she cuffed the side of his head. “UP!”

John jerked after a moment and said something, only to stop short- finally feeling the gag, most likely. 

Nicolette jumped out of the truck. “JOSEPH!” The handful of cultists that were around finally took notice of her and approached slowly. “JOSEPH!” she called again.

The church doors swung open slowly, and sure enough, Joseph emerged. He walked a few feet ahead, then stopped in his tracks when he saw her. He stared for a moment, then: “I thought we had an arrangement.” It was a statement, not a question. 

“So did I,” Nicolette countered.

Joseph merely did that half-frown, half neutral expression of his.

“Jacob’s fucking trigger playing as we were leaving: did you want _me_ dead, or to wake up to find that I killed my people?!" she demanded. 

Joseph tilted his head and blinked in that... inhuman way of his. “I assure you, I wanted nothing of the sort," he answered. 

“Then show me the person who can _fucking fix me!_ ”

Joseph stepped forward carefully. “I cannot help you, Child. I meant what I said. I am a man of my word, as much as I doubt you'd believe it.  You and your people were free to go. I let you go in peace. If… anything happened, I had nothing to do with-”

Nicolette turned on her heel sharply and made for the co-passenger side of the truck. She took a small amount of comfort in seeing Joseph step back cautiously out of the corner of her eye. She yanked the door open and pulled John out of the car. She shoved him forward and pulled the hood off and steered him forward. “Your last seal wasn’t opened after all, you fucking prick! Did you prophecise that?!” she looked around at the cultists who had gathered around. “See?! Your goddamn prophet can’t foresee everything!”  

Joseph looked startled for a moment, but was stone-faced again as quickly as he had shown the initial shock.

She turned back to him. “Here’s the deal. You get me that fucking box and whoever worked with Jacob, and you get John back, and your end of the world bullshit goes back to normal, or I'll kill him here and now!” she called. “If I’m the fucking key in all this, I get what I want, I walk away, you get your brother back, you’re one big fucked-up family again.”

“I’m… afraid it’s too late for all that,” Joseph murmured.

“What?” Nicolette objected. From her side, she heard John make some noise that probably mirrored the sentiment.

Joseph’s eyes flicked to John. “I told you what would happen if you let your sins consume you, John. Did you think I would not hear what transpired in… your last confrontation with the Deputy?”

 _She’d find atonement or the Gates would be closed to him._ Nicolette remembered that plain as day, but if he was getting at what she thought he was… _no, no it couldn’t be_. He had _lost it_ when John had ‘died.’ He couldn’t possibly be…? Over trying to kill her? The very thing Joseph was ordering his own people to do?

“As long as the Deputy still draws breath, the Collapse is upon us. I must shepherd my flock. I must protect them. And I cannot have you endangering that.”

It was Nicolette’s turn to stare. Was he really abandoning John point blank in favor of the goddamn cult and the fucking Apocalypse theory?

From beside her, John was attempting to voice his own protests through the gag.

She glanced his way. He looked panicked and desperate. He sounded as much, as muffled as his protests were. It was a strange look on him. He had come to the same conclusion as her, apparently. She could see his jaw clenching, furiously trying to get through the gag so he could actually speak. 

Joseph backed up towards the church, and murmured something to the two nearest cultists.

The cultists, in turn, raised machine guns and prepared to fire.

Nicolette wasn’t too lost in thought to ignore _that_. She swore when she realized things were about to go even more sideways than they already had. Her plan hadn’t worked, Joseph was _even crazier_ than he had been those days ago, and since she hadn’t stood close enough or kept John on a chain or anything, her bargaining chip was about to be entirely lost.

She scrambled back to avoid the first spray of gunfire, then almost stopped short when she only _heard_ the second- nothing near her exploded, and it was going too wide to hit her. She risked looking towards it- only to find out that the second shooter was shooting _at John._ A bunch of other cultists followed suit, firing at the both of them. 

 _Joseph’s entirely lost it_. _John dying the first time was probably what set him off.  She had **fucked up**. So now the cultists' game plan was to kill the Bringer of the Apocalypse, or their former Herald who had the biggest chance of killing her. _ And fucking Joseph was covering both bases on that front, judging by all the bullets flying.  _So this is all your damn fault,_ Nicolette scolded herself. There was another spray of bullets, and she bolted. She was dimly aware that John wasn’t far behind her.

It wasn’t lost on her that this was history repeating itself all over again for a third time- running for her life from the damn church, straight into the wilderness with absolutely no sense of direction.

_You **really** fucked up this one. _

And so she ran. After the fifth minute, she had lost track of John. He had veered off from her after following directly behind for a stretch. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. So she kept running, changing directions every so often. It wasn’t until her chest hurt from her lungs burning that she finally stopped. She threw herself into the nearest bush.

What she didn’t count on, however, was her body’s tiredness betraying her. The moment she knelt down, the need for rest overcame her, and she promptly passed out.

* * *

 

When she came to, she was grateful that it was still daylight. The sun hadn’t moved much, so she must’ve been out a matter of minutes. Still, she needed to move and find a better hiding place. She had shown her entire hand for no reason now. She was truly fucked. She stood slowly to try and find anything familiar.

There was a shout from behind her. She turned towards it only to find a navy blue blur off to her left and she sidestepped just in time for it to miss her- _'it'_  being John running at her, full tilt.

She jumped back and scrambled for her knife. She looked towards him, panicked and tried to take in as much detail as she could. Somehow he had discarded the gag. He was running damn well with an injured leg. The bastard bared his teeth at her, like some sort of goddamn animal, and something- most likely Jacob’s influence again, made her return the gesture on instinct. He was getting dangerously close now, and she charged forward for the sake of hoping to catch him off guard. 

They met in the middle in a flurry of punches and kicks.

“You made him _abandon me_!” John hissed.

“He did that himself, you ass! He’s fucking crazier than you now!”

“You did that to him, too!”

Well, she couldn’t really argue with that logic. He cuffed her across the face and she yelped. Taking advantage of her reaction, he kicked her legs out from under her.

She did the same to him the moment she hit the ground. After a moment, she managed to retrieve her knife from her boot.

John caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and smacked her free hand away, sending the knife flying yards away.

Nicolette watched it and more panic set it. _Come on. Only you, can make all this world seem right, only you can make the darkness bright-_

Of course, that little trick chose that moment to _not work_.

John snarled, purely animalistic again. He swung a leg over her thighs to effectively pin her down, clamped his hands over her throat and squeezed. “Guess if I’m not welcome there anymore, might as well just do this anyway,” he mused. “Just remember you did this. I meant it when I said I didn’t want to kill you the first time.”

Nicolette whimpered and struggled against him, but she could already feel the effects of the strangulation kick in. She was getting lightheaded, her vision was going black- now that was Fate’s cruel joke again- the conditioning wasn’t even kicking in _then when she was dying. It was probably some fucking failsafe Jacob had done. Kill everyone weak except for the siblings. Bastard_. She was going to die after everything, and of course, by his hand. The whole "I'm not here to take your life, I'm here to give it to you" thing was almost laughable then, even with what he had just said. Her limbs had started to go numb when something changed.

His grip on her neck suddenly eased up, and he sat up a bit. When her vision started to clear, she saw that he had some miles-away look on his face. _What the actual fuck?_

Another moment passed, and John withdrew his hands entirely and rested them on his thighs. He blinked a few times then looked at her curiously. “Hold on. What are _we_ fighting for?” he suddenly asked.

Nicolette didn’t respond, far too busy with trying to regulate her breathing. She wouldn’t have known what to say anyway, outside of ‘what the fuck?’ again.

John got off of her and started to pace in a small circle. “This could work.”

This time, she couldn’t help the “what?” that came out of her mouth.

John looked at her and his grin widened, showing most of his teeth- _not unlike a shark,_ she couldn't help but notice. She didn't know why she hadn't noticed the last time he had been straddling her and giving her that same smile. He knelt down again and smacked her cheek, but it was strangely light- _teasing_ , even. “You and I. The _wrathful_ , as my dear old _brother_ put it. We could be partners. Forget the bargain with Joseph. Make one with _me_. You get what you want, I get what I want.”

She stared at him. Apparently Joseph wasn’t the only one who had lost his fucking mind in one go. “... And what’s that?” she forced out, even if she didn’t really want to know. John had been responsible for a quarter of all the evil Joseph had done, how and why would he suddenly want to stop it? What the fuck was happening?

John stroked her face with his pointer finger, from cheekbone to chin, then held her chin when she tried to pull away. “You want you poor, abused brain back to yourself..." he began, tapping her on the forehead a couple of times. "And me..." he looked her in the eye. “I  wanna kill Joseph.”

She gawked at him again. It was official. He was really insane. Joseph had effectively abandoned him in favor of his divine purpose or whatever the fuck it was, which had been the biggest case of irony she had encountered, but now this… zero to sixty reaction was something else. _Even for John_.

John huffed out a laugh, like he hadn’t said the most unexpected thing he’d ever say. “So, what do you say? Partners?” when she continued to stare without saying a word, his grin grew. “All you have to do… is say ‘yes.”


	3. The Other Side

She said yes.

Granted, she was terrified, and the fact that he insisted on sealing the deal with a handshake made it feel like she was making a deal with the devil. Another fucked up parallel in all the religious mumbo jumbo.

But damn it, she liked his plan. She needed _some_ sort of closure. If letting him put a bullet between his brother's eyes was it, so be it. 

She hardly knew what to think when he helped her to her feet directly afterward. Trying to strangle her to death one minute, assisting the next- it made no sense to her, but since when had John Seed ever made any fucking sense? She had a feeling that was going to be a perfect summary of their partnership. That was, if this wasn’t some giant ploy to get her killed- planned by John himself or him and Joseph. She had too many questions for the new situation, and had a feeling he was going to take pride in not answering them.

When John insisted that the first step in their little partnership was ‘getting a new Resistance going’. Step two: ‘‘blowing my brother’s statue out of the fucking sky”, complete with a big spiel about how he was surprised she hadn’t done the latter yet. The ‘getting a new Resistance’ was apparently broadcasting a new video of John calling out Joseph on the ‘mostly lying bastard he is.’ She didn’t believe him worth anything, and it was the third time she figured the whole damned ordeal was a trap.

Still, he had turned on his heel and headed off in a direction like a man on a mission. She had hurried after him, more to make sure he wasn’t going to kill anyone on the way.

They made it to some run down pawn shop within an hour. John had walked in like he owned the place. She followed him in, and sure enough, he went to one particular case with a bunch of scattered electronics. There was some old camcorder in it, and John gave it a once over before he nodded, satisfied.

“Right. Next step-”

He was cut off when there was the sound of a car engine coming up the road. A moment later, there was the sound of a car pulling up to the lot of the shop they were in. 

The pair exchanged looks before they ducked behind the counter and waited.

John scooted off to the right and reached directly under the cash register- where a gun had been tucked.

She swallowed hard, her imagination having come up with a perfectly plausible reason of why he knew it had been there. He had been on the other end of it once. It was most likely true as it was. 

He caught the look, smirked and shrugged.

The door to the shop swung open a moment later, and the bell above the door rang. It took a few moments for whoever it was to enter.

“Whoever the Hell is in here, leave. Mag’s got nothing left, don’t you think she’s lost enough?”

Nicolette’s heart sunk, but she nearly let out a relieved laugh after a moment. Sure, it meant things were about to get complicate as Hell, but Nick Rye sounded like himself, and that was the best thing that she had heard in the last few days. Joseph had kept his fucking word about her friends when she had named the extra term of their agreement that they all went free _, bliss-free_.  At least he wasn't that much of a filthy liar. 

It was John’s turn to give her a pointed look. She shook her head rapidly, and he merely gave her the look more aggressively.

She shot him the look back, then motioned at the gun.

John rolled his eyes, then passed it over to her.

She tucked it into the side of her waistband opposite him and stood carefully. “Nick,” she said carefully and stood up.

Nick stared at her for a solid few seconds, then. “Nic,” he greeted with the same strained delivery.

That had been their thing when he first found her first name. ‘ _Nick n' Nic, taking names and kicking Peggie ass!_.’ The memory was enough to yank some of that indifference that had leaked into her heart out of it. She hopped over the counter and practically threw herself into his arms.

Nick hugged her back tightly, lifting her off the ground a couple of inches to boot. “Jesus, I thought you were dead!”

“So did I for a while,” she admitted. She pulled away from him.

Nick shook his head. “Why…?" he trailed off, then shook his head. "Forget it. It’s been nearly a week, why didn’t you find us, why didn’t you _call_?!”

"I thought you were still blissed! And if you weren't, I thought if anyone knew I was still kicking, you'd all be killed. I couldn’t do that to you! I couldn’t do that to _me_!” she responded. It felt like a lie, even if it was the truth. She knew ‘because I thought I’d lose control and kill you’ would hardly fly.

“We’ve been through worse,” Nick offered.

“You were under Joseph's control. That's as bad as you can get before being killed here." 

Nick went to protest further, then sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

A few loaded moments of silence passed.

Naturally, John chose that moment to stand up. “Are you two done with this little lover's quarrel?”

Nick stepped back quickly and went for the gun at his side.

Nicolette scrambled to stop him. “Easy, easy!”

John finally stood up and looked between them. “Nick. How’s the chest? It healing nicely?”

“I thought _you_ were supposed to be dead, too,” Nick replied, not missing a beat.

John shrugged. “You have your Deputy here to thank for that. We came to an… arrangement,” he explained, then offered another smile. “She said yes.”

Nick’s eyes shot to Nicolette’s.

Nicolette, in turn, saw everything simply implied in the look. She opened her mouth to launch into every single protest she could, but she was silent for a second too long when she realized she had no idea where to start.

Nick took the silence as affirmation. He tilted his head back and swallowed- the most disappointed she had ever seen him.  “Oh, _Partner. Not_ _you_.”

That shattered whatever was left of her damned heart- she had been wrong before about thinking it had thawed. She forced herself to start talking. It physically hurt when she reached for Nick’s arm and he immediately pulled away. “No! No! Not me! Not me, god, do you think I’d do that?! It’s… complicated.”

“It’s really not,” John cut in.

She whirled on him. “YOU _SHUT IT_!”

“Homicidal maniac’s got a point,” Nick pointed out.

“Then he can fucking explain,” Nicolette countered.

“Gladly,” John agreed. “See, everyone’s favorite lawbringer hunted me after… our little disagreement at the church.  She was going to kill me, but figured I’d be better off as a bargaining chip against Joseph. He took you all to his compound, blah blah blah, she brought me out of the damned little cage she had me in, took me to Joseph… “ he trailed off, and something dark crossed his face. “and the bastard chose his flock over his own brother.”

Nick looked between them. “So where does the _arrangement_ come in…?”

“Oh, right, I left that part out,” John grinned. “See, Jacob’s little hold on her didn’t quit when she killed him.”

“Hold? What hold…?” Nick questioned.

John raised his eyebrows. “You don’t know?” he said, clearly aware of the fact that the pilot didn’t know.

He opened his mouth, and Nicolette immediately stepped in front of him. She wasn’t sure what to think when John merely backed up, shut his mouth and let her go. And here it was, the moment she was going to really lose everything. Nick was never going to look at her the same way. Kim would never look at her the same way. She’d never see her goddaghter again. She steeled herself. “I was… one of Jacob’s experiments for a while. I think it was some sort of ultimate… Chosen… _thing_ …” she trailed off. “That’s why I disappeared for a while- before _and_ after the cult took you. I’m a fucking killing machine when I hear one fucking song, and… I don’t think there’s a way to stop it. I didn’t want to hurt any of you, so I avoided all of you.”

Nick stared at her again.

She couldn’t read him, but there was some sort of pity in the mixture in his eyes, and she took that as a small victory that he wasn’t entirely lost to her. It was just about confirmed when he looked at John, and the mixed emotions that were visible on him all hardened into everything remotely connected to hate.

“Do you know how to fix her?” Nick asked. 

“Me? No. But I know who might," John answered. 

“And what the fuck’s in it for you?”

John shrugged. “I get help in killing Joseph.”

Nick stared a third time. A moment later, he scoffed and turned his attention back to Nicolette. “Nic, you can’t honestly believe this guy.”

“I don’t. But I was there when Joseph… threw him to the wolves. They were shooting at him same as me.”

“Could’ve been a plan,” Nick countered.

“I'm... not so sure. Had him in that bunker for a week. When we got there, he was gagged, so they couldn’t pass a code. Joseph only spoke to his people for about three seconds. Pretty sure that’s only enough time to say ‘kill _them_.’ Also- blanks don’t cause as much damage as the ones that were headed his way did.” She sighed when Nick went to protest further but couldn’t come up with anything. “I’ve wracked my brain for anything that could’ve been fake. I can’t come up with a damned thing,” she explained. When she practically felt arrogance radiating from behind her, she huffed. “Doesn’t mean I’m not still looking for how it could be a setup. Or that I trust him.”

Nick seemed satisfied for the moment. He looked back at John. “Why do you wanna kill Joseph? Couple of weeks back you were ready to torture us if he looked at us wrong.”

Nicolette turned to her friend sharply. Sure, she had wanted to ask John that very same question, but she didn’t want to risk it. She figured he’d only get more unhinged.

Sure enough, the arrogance that had been in the air around him immediately dissipated. There was some cold, silent fury in its wake. “He made a promise to look after us forever when we were kids,” he said evenly.  “He _lied_.That’s not something you lie about. It’s… _traitorous_.”

“ _The worst thing you can ever be_ ,” Nicolette replied, and her stomach twisted when she realized she was still parroting Jacob without trying. 

Nick gave her another puzzled look, and she shook her head at him. _Not here, not now._

John, on the other hand, gave her another unreadable expression before it faded into his usual devil may care expression. “The lady gets it. Point is, I’m not asking you to trust me, I’m asking for cooperation.”

“For _you_. For the Deputy, here… well, that’s why we’re gonna make such good partners,” John pointed out. He reached out for her shoulder and gave it a mocking squeeze. When she jerked out of his grip, he put his hands up in surrender.

Nick shook his head. “If you think I’m letting you two go about this alone, if you think I’m letting you anywhere _near_ my best friend after all the shit you pulled-”

“She agreed, I’m not forcing it,” John pointed out.

“You expect me to believe that after everything-”

“Nick,” Nicolette said quietly.

Nick turned to look at her again. 

She shook her head.  “Please. Just… trust _me_. If you go along with me, if something happens to you or Kim or little Carmina-”

“Nic…” Nick murmured. 

John gagged loudly behind them.

“-I’ll never forgive myself. I’ve been through so much shit, don’t put me through that, too.”

Nick finally sighed. He looked at John. “You double cross her, I’m killin' you myself.”

“I believe it. Are we done now?” John asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re done,” Nick replied. He waited a moment, then promptly brought the butt of his rifle up in order to ram in into John’s face- not enough to knock him out, but enough to hurt.

Sure enough, John reeled back with a hiss. Once he recovered, he checked his nose for blood. It came back clean. “What is it with you people and hits to the face?!”

“Just something about wrecking the goddamn poster boy,” Nick replied.

John went to respond, but he suddenly got the same look that he had gotten when he switched from strangling Nicolette to realizing they could use each other. Without another word, he walked out of the building with purpose.

Nicolette groaned and went to follow him.

Nick stepped in front of her and grabbed her arm for good measure.  “Don’t disappear on us again. That’s all I’m asking.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

“ _Be careful_.”

“I will, _Dad_.”

Nick ruffled her hair in return.

She smacked his hand away playfully, while fully grateful he did it. Things were normal. She was still his best friend first, not _the killing machine_ in his eyes. “Take good care of Boomer for me.”

He wrapped her in another bear hug that she eagerly returned. “Will do. But you better come back for him.”

“I intend to.”

“Good.”

She nodded at him one last time before heading out. No goodbyes. Don’t make this harder in case it goes south. Her throat burned again, and it was enough to compel her forward faster. She stayed on the main road. 

John turned out to be a few paces ahead once she turned a corner, in front of some cult billboard. One of the ever obnoxious ‘yes’ ones with his face front and center. They were a close second in the posters she hated most, directly behind Jacob’s "Only You" ones. But she was still fairly sure those particular ones were around just for her.

The man was cutting into it with something, and it wasn’t until she was right behind him that she realized he was using her knife. She inhaled sharply.

“Relax, Deputy. You never picked it up after our last… scuffle. I did. Keep in mind I didn’t gut you with it, and you’ve given me nine different perfect opportunities to do so.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, then figured answering would only encourage him. She turned her attention to the words he was carving into it, eyeing each letter as he went:

T H E   F A T H E R  L I E S

That time, she did scoff by the time he had finished the ‘L.’ “Can’t even come up with something original?”

“There’s some truth to this one now. And I’m a marketer, Sweetheart. Joseph mak - _made_ it. I just sold it.”

“And damn everyone who resisted,” she cut in.

“The Collapse _is_ coming. It’s not my fault they chose to not believe it.”

“You’re _talking_ to the Collapse, aren’t you? In the symbolic sense?” Nicolette asked quietly. Even she wasn’t so sure anymore. That was one theory she had come up with after hearing all of Joseph's nonsense. She was the end of the world personified. She was the end of the world, or the event would happen if she took him in- there were about five different options by then, and knew there were probably more. The possibilities did nothing to ease her mind.

“Fuck if I know. There was so much of it I lost track,” John admitted. When she frowned at him, he shrugged. “Like I said, spokesperson. I make people believe it, no matter what. That’s what brothers… are _supposed_ to do.”

She went silent again. It could be a trick. He could be baiting her for sympathy. It was no different than Faith. Instead, she nodded at the camera he had slung over his shoulder. “The Hell is that for, anyway?”

“For ‘Welcome to Eden’s Gate, Take Two,” John replied, waving his hands in front of him.

“So we’ve got means to record… knowing you, you’ve got a plan to get it out there to the people. How do we do that when we’ve got giant targets on our backs?”

John grinned at her use of ‘our.’ “I knew you’d come around. You’ve always been smarter than I gave you credit for.”

“I haven’t come around for a second.”

“And there’s the stubbornness. The _pride_.” John waved dismissively. “ _We’re_ going to seek out some help,” he reported. He held out the knife hilt first to her. When she made no move to get it, he arched an eyebrow and waved it.

She looked him in the eye for a moment before taking it. It wasn’t lost on her that even he hesitated, waiting before she tucked it back into her boot. It was probably psychological warfare. And he was good at it. After Jacob, she wasn't sure how she could manage anymore.  

John took his turn to give her a once over before he turned around. “We need stupid, but not _too_ stupid. Blindly optimistic, maybe.” Another dramatic pause, “Where’s that Boshaw friend of yours?”

“... _No!_ ”


	4. Two Sides of the Same Coin

John, of course, knew exactly where Sharky’s trailer was. He had just smiled at her refusal, motioned at her to follow him, and started off down another path through the trees. John stopped at a toolshed behind an abandoned house. She was half convinced it had been used as some sort of torture room for victims of the cult if the varying tools scattered around one of the tables and the suspicious red-brown dried puddles on the floor were any indication. He had retrieved some sort of metal pick, handed it to her, and motioned at the cuffs. “I played your game _nicely_. I’d be more useful without them.”

She stared at him a solid few seconds again, then swore. The bastard had a point.

“I already tried to kill you _with them_. Can’t get worse than that,” John pointed out, apparently having caught the underlying ‘if I do, don’t make me regret it' in the look he gave her.  

It was a fair point, as much as she hated to admit it.  She picked the lock on the cuffs, and within seconds, they fell away from his wrists. She tried not to groan. She had hoped they were at least police issue and would’ve been harder to break.

John let his hands drop and mock bowed in thanks.

She opened her mouth to chide him again when there was the sound of an explosion in the distance-that sounded like it came in the direction of Sharky’s house. She was out of the shed in a second, John momentarily forgotten.

She made it across the hill that separated the shed from Sharky’s place. She stared down into his yard, looking for any evidence of her friend's presence there. She let out a deep sigh when she saw Sharky out back, unharmed, cheering about having just blown something up, if him cheering ‘it worked’ paired with something burning in front of him was any indication. “Shit…”

John strolled up next to her. “Oh, great. Now he’s got an affinity for explosives.”

She turned to him. “He always has. Let me do the talking this time.”

“I intended to. Nick’s got a conscience. He’s an ask questions first, shoot later kind of guy. Boshaw, not so much,” John began. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “And from what I hear, he’s another one who’s in love with you. Or just really, _really_ wants to fuck you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know, you’ve got a fucked up interest in my-” she got cut off when he turned on his heel, took hold of her waist and pulled her closer to him.

When he went for the zipper on her bomber jacket and started to pull it down, she grunted and immediately went to smack his hands away.

John pulled back, only to smack her own hands away, then gave the zipper one final yank so it stopped below her chest.  

The jacket was _just_ too small for her and the tank top beneath had been a loan from Adelaide, so her chest was fairly exposed to begin with under the jacket, but now with the zipper down everything had gotten pushed up, practically on display. It took her an extra second to realize that was _exactly_ what John counted on Sharky noticing, given his last statement. “You’re an asshole.”

“And I know straight men and their priorities. I might not be picky with partners myself, Deputy, but I know what they would appreciate,” John countered

She tried not to blink at him for too long. That… hadn’t been an expected answer. So, was he bi? Because if so, she was about to be twenty dollars richer once she made it to Sharky’s- that had been one thing she had been grateful to Sharky about. The pointless bets about fucked up things about the county that made it just a bit more bearable. She pulled herself out of her own head for a moment, only to see John had snuck a quick, _hungry_ once-over of her new look when she was distracted. She had half a mind to call him out on it til she realized he could’ve just been looking at his handiwork tattooed just below her collarbone. She went to zip the jacket back up when there was the sound of a twig snapping behind them.

There was a couple of seconds of dead silence, then: “Holy shit. _DEP!_ ”

The next thing Nicolette knew, she had been hoisted up into the biggest bear hug she had been on the receiving end of… and then was promptly dropped.

“Wait- ain’t he supposed to be dead?”

Nicolette looked from Sharky to John and back again. Much like she had with Nick, she gave him a quick cautionary once over. He didn’t look dazed, there was no greenish haze around him- he was Bliss-free, too. _Good._

John put his hands up, then made an ‘all yours’ hand motion at her.

She inhaled sharply, ready to launch into the explanation. “Death was faked. Needed a bargaining chip and he was it. Turns out he was a shit bargaining chip because Joseph’s mad at him for trying to kill me so many times before atonement  so he cast him out. Now _he_ wants to kill Joseph. Also, I’m still wired with that reverse Clockwork Orange shit I told you about. I want it out of my brain. He can supposedly help me out. We worked something out.” She took pride in the fact that John looked up when she mentioned the ‘told you about.’ She had told Sharky because she had needed to tell _someone_. She figured he would be the one who would find it fucked up and yet awesome, which was what she needed- a light at the end of the tunnel. And low and behold, he had been just that.

“... Okay then. Stupid plan, but I trust ya,” Sharky replied. And then, to her annoyance, she noticed his eyes drifted to her chest for a couple of extra seconds longer than necessary.

John cleared his throat behind her. She went to elbow him, but he sidestepped it and smirked.

“ So he’s on our side now?” Sharky finally continued.

“More like his own,” Nicolette replied. “We… need your A/V equipment for a while. He’s… apparently got a follow-up to his usual commercial bullshit.”

“And that’s gonna help… how?” Sharky asked.

“Get defectors. Bolster Resistance. The list goes on,” John cut in.

There was silence for a while. Sharky was the first to break it. “I don’t like it.”

“No one does," she shrugged. 

“I say we hold a gun on ‘im just in case,” Sharky suggested.

“Oh, absolutely. Those are the terms. Non-negotiable,” she replied. She gave John a pointed look.

He merely shrugged in response. “So… where to?”

* * *

 

“Brothers, sisters…my appearance will come as a shock to most. Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. In an act of God's strength and patience, the Deputy... spared me and treated me mercifully.  But that is not what I wish to tell you right now. I address you now because I care about every single one of you. Your safety until the Collapse and beyond has always been my top priority. So again, I warn you about a snake in our garden and their lies. The Father has told you the snake is the Deputy. You have been misled, conned into looking the opposite direction.  The snake is another. One none of us expected, myself most of all. The snake is the Father himself.  As I mentioned, the Deputy showed compassion and mercy and spared my life in... what were supposed to be my last moments.  I was an unwilling participant in a plan to trick the Father into a stalemate with the Deputy. It ended with Joseph abandoning me. I have just been cast out of my family and tossed to the wolves by the Father over this stalemate, when I had nothing to do with it, nor any control over my part in it. I pose a question to all of you: Are you truly prepared to throw your lot in with someone who would abandon you so quickly, without evidence? Without a chance to speak? Or would you stand with the one who is truly willing to look passed all sin? Think on that before you give everything to him so easily. We are Hope County. And we know better. We deserve better. And we will make it better." he looked down, then back up. "This... is the will of the Deputy." 

There was something nearly comical about the juxtaposition between the last address John had made in this one- as well as the new last word closing line of the address. The first was a show of grandeur; and now here he was, in a barely lit bunker, with the metallic walls as a background. Sure, John’s speech was good,  she might’ve even called it believable if she didn’t know better. She wondered just how long he had been practicing that in his head, and if the part about her was all bullshit. She glanced to the other side of the couch, where even Sharky seemed torn. 

John rose to his feet in order to stop the camera and shut off the equipment.

“Now what?” Sharky asked. He looked from Nicolette, who shrugged, to John, who didn’t respond either.

The latter just went to work setting up the audio recording to loop over the radio. When that was done, he retrieved the camera. “The Deputy here and I are going to take a trip to the television station and get this out there.”

“Ain’t that gonna be a bitch getting there now that you aint Peggie royalty anymore?” Sharky asked.

John frowned at Nicolette. “And you say _I'm_ the one thattalk too much.”

“He means well. You, on the other hand…”

John shrugged again. “We’re wasting time,” he reported. He crossed the bunker and started up the ladder. “Hurry up, Deputy!”

“I should’ve killed him,” Nicolette deadpanned, even as she followed.

“You ain’t hearin’ any arguments from me. Do you need another body up there? ‘Cause I’ll beat his ass if he tries anything- uh, not that I don’t know you could beat his ass on your own, you know. Like, you could probably kill either of us with your pinky. Man, what a way to go. Death by a gorgeous woman.”

She chuckled. “Never change, Shark.”

“ _DEPUTY_!” John called from above them.

She rolled her eyes. “Look, we might be back. We’re most likely gonna need a place to lay low.”

“Mi casa es su casa,” Sharky replied. “Well, I mean, not _both_ of yours; when he gets back we can lock him up down here and you can crash in the house.”

She offered a grateful nod, then went up the ladder.

John barely spared her a glance before he set off, headed north. She scrambled to keep up. After a few minutes of silence, she was grateful he was so determined to get to the damned place. Before long, they had found an abandoned car. John had immediately hopped in upon seeing a pair of keys still in the ignition.

She had gone around to the side and climbed in. It wasn’t until she closed the door that the last time she had been in one such truck came rushing back to her.. Her breathing immediately got heavy and rapid, all at once. _No, no, not now,  it’s a fucking car. You’re going to have to go into fucking cars after this._ Some shadow that bore a striking resemblance to Pratt’s silhouette drifted around when she glanced at the backseat out of instinct, and she snapped her eyes shut and turned back around. _You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re with John so you’re not remotely okay, but you’re a different okay._

The radio suddenly started up- some cult song, judging by the first swell in the music. She refused to take chances and practically punched the power button to turn it off, then promptly leaned over and tucked her knees into her chest, trying to regulate her breathing.

For once, John was silent, and she had a sinking feeling he was probably filing everything away for an insult against her later.

She had lost track of time before John finally mentioned reaching the place. She heard him get out and squeezed her eyes shut before she reached for the door handle and practically threw herself out. At this rate, she was going to see the Sheriff’s outline, and that would’ve done her in. She followed the sound of John’s footsteps for a while and then finally opened her eyes.

The station wasn’t as grand as expected. It was no bigger than a quarter of a city block, bordering an open area with that damned ‘Yes’ lattice. The broadcasting antenna behind the place dwarfed the complex.

John whistled up ahead of her and she turned towards him, just in time to catch the pistol he had tossed her way. “When did you get this?!”

“When you were having your little breakdown in the car,” John countered. “If you knew I found it, we’d both be dead right now. So I’d thank whatever demons you just dealt with in there-”

“Fuck. Off.”

“Knife,” John cut her off and held out her hand. When her frown deepened, he sighed. “I could’ve just shot you and _chose_ not to. I already said the same about the knife. I’m the one who knows what to expect and where, I need close range. You need to cover me long range. So, again: Knife. _Please_.”

It was her turn to groan. She took it from her boot and held it out to him.

He took it, then nodded at her to follow him.

They entered the building through a side door. The place was more ghost town than anything. She wondered if Joseph had carted off whoever worked within it to go prepare for the Collapse again.

Still, John kept moving with his usual confidence, so it might not have been unheard of for it to be that empty.

They went down one hallway, and John eased open one door that looked to have wall-to-wall televisions hooked up.

Nicolette heard voices coming from within, and when John gave her a pointed look, she nodded.

John slipped inside, and she went after him.

Two Peggies were fiddling with a console in front of them while talking about something, backs turned on the two intruders and none the wiser that they were there.

John approached them silently and bent down. “Hey, fellas. Miss me?” he used their moment of panic to thrust the knife straight into the Peggie on the right’s neck and slammed the other’s head down hard onto the console to disorient him. He ripped the knife from the first Peggie’s neck, only to repeat the process on the second’s.

It had happened so maddeningly quickly Nicolette had to bite back a gasp after the fact. She had never seen him in _actual_ action. Their first encounter in his bunker suddenly felt like an entirely different animal. Outside of their scuffle a matter of hours ago, he had left the physical fighting to his cronies. The fact that he was so lethal that quickly at hand to hand combat was quite possibly the biggest, most horrifying surprise yet.

John hauled the two bodies away from the console, retrieved the camera from its spot hanging from his shoulder, and went for a pile of wires on a shelf in the corner. He snapped his fingers at her, then motioned at the door. 

 _Right._ Nicolette circled back to the door and looked up and down the hall. There was still no one around. Had Joseph given them an update? Had he decided losing John that way negated her negating the seal being opened? She got so caught up in the possibilities that she nearly missed movement down the hallway.

“The Sinner’s here! GET HER!”

“Shit!” Nicolette hissed. She turn around and ran down the hallway.

Within a couple of minutes alone, she had found out for such a small place, the station was a goddamn maze.

Mostly any turn she took either looped back to an old spot, or led to a dead end. She had managed to shoot and kill four pursuers, but they had called in help, so their mission was probably blown. Not to mention Peggie backup had been there within seconds, so there must’ve been sort of meeting going on that had kept them occupied. She counted at least twelve, and only had about eight bullets left in the pistol if she had counted right.  “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

A matter of minutes later she had shot half of the Peggies. It had been a mess, with her having to pick doors and which branching hallway to go down once every ten seconds. It wasn’t until then that she had realized that she probably should’ve been closing the damn doors behind her to buy herself a few seconds once she decided to switch directions. She went to work doing just that. The third door ended up being heavier than expected. She had to turn back to shut it all the way, and when she finally had, there was suddenly the distinct feeling of the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her head.

“Nice try, Sinner. Drop the gun.”

“Fuck,” she repeated. She let her wrist relax and slowly knelt to put down the gun. Well, that was it. After everything that had happened, she was about to get offed there and then, or she was going to get carted back to Joseph and he was going to kill her. He’d probably blame her for him betraying John, too. She waited in silence for a few seconds out of morbid curiosity.

The silence was broken by a muted sound she had never heard before, and then something warm and wet hit the back of her neck.

The cultist’s neck had been sliced open. She had to step back to avoid getting any more of the spray on her. After the display from earlier, she knew exactly what to expect  to see when the bastard fell over.

Of course, seeing John wielding a knife was nothing new. The added detail of him being nearly _covered_ in blood that didn’t look to be his was an addition she did not need. At all. But it was very, _very real_.  It also occurred to her that John Fucking Seed _had just saved her life._ He was her blood-soaked guardian _demon._ Well, wasn’t _that_ a thing to wrap her head around.

“The only one who gets to kill you is _me_ ,” John said a moment later.

Well, at least that sentiment made her feel a little better about how torn she had been about it.

“We’re leaving,” he continued.

Having lost the capacity to speak since her brain was still trying to process everything, she merely gave her own ‘after you’ motion.

* * *

 

They made it back to the truck and drove in dead silence. They made it halfway back to Sharky’s and walked the rest at Nicolette’s request.

When they reached his house, Sharky, who had been out back grilling something merely took in their appearances, scratched his neck and gone, “So… it went… good?”

“I’ll be in my new prison,” John deadpanned. He walked over to the bunker's hatch, opened it, and descended without another word.

“So… not so good?” Sharky asked. “Or are we happy he’s pissed? ‘Cause I’m leaning towards the second option.”

“Don’t… actually know?” Nicolette replied.

Sharky nodded. “So… story of our lives for the last few months, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she nodded.

Sharky looked her up and down, then pointed to a spot on her hair. “Who’s blood is that?”

“Peggie’s.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Yeah. Where’s that chain and deadlock you had for your shed?”

“Got it all ready for ya by the hatch already, Darlin'.”

She nodded and headed for the hatch and chained up and locked the handle. She made out the tiniest bit of movement through the glass pane in the middle. John was directly below, probably seeing if they actually did lock him inside.

By the time she has finished chaining up the door and turned back to the house, Sharky was already outside in one of his chairs, rifle draped across his lap. She gave him a pat on the back, informed him she was going to borrow his shower and couch for a couple of hours, and then headed inside.

The shower had ended up lukewarm at best, and the shut-eye she had intended on having was plagued by nightmares _again._

Most of the time, it was the same one, over and over. This time was no different. _The world was engulfed in what could only be called Hellfire. She was surrounded by the bodies of her coworkers and every single friend she had made in her time in the county. They were all burned just short of unrecognizable- all except Pratt, whose face was untouched. A new thing for her subconscious to hold against her. And from the trees behind her came that damned rendition of Amazing Grace in that damned voice… and then nothing but a black void._

She woke up with a start, heart pounding and drenched in sweat. It had been too real. And suddenly the fact that she hadn’t heard anything from Earl or Joey was ten times as worrying as it already had been.

She had nearly paced a hole in the floor as she tried to get her mind off of it.

_Fucking. Joseph. Fucking Apocalypse theories. Fucking songs that would never be the same if she ever managed to leave the fucking county alive._

She glanced out the window where the bunker hatch was visible. She sighed and crossed the room to retrieve one of Sharky’s spare sweatshirts, pulled it on and walked out the door towards the bunker.

She unlocked the door, opened it and descended the ladder, closing everything up behind her.

She looked around. When her eyes adjusted to the low light, she found John seemingly out cold on the floor beside the couch. More importantly, however, there was a bottle of “Sharky’s Black Label” at his hip. She didn’t know what was in it, and Sharky had always been adamant it was a ‘secret family recipe’ so he had never told her. She did know that only a couple of glasses of it could put _Sharky_ on his ass, so the fact that John was nearly three quarters of a bottle deep, which was bad to begin with, made whatever the Hell this was much, much worse. _He’s barely been out of the holier-than-thou life and he’s already trying to pile on what qualifies to him as sinning._    It was her damned college roommate in her freshman year all over again. But _homicidal._ The icing on the ‘This Was a Mistake’ cake was that the man had apparently shucked his shirt at some point and used her knife to open cuts that traced along his Wrath and Pride tattoos. _Fuck._ She could just imagine the _surface_ of what was going on in his head.  Judging by the distressed look that plagued his face even in his sleep, she risked letting her heart go out to him. It was a lot for everyone, but he had lost everything in one go. He deserved to suffer, just... not all at once. Not like _that._ "John..." she said carefully and touched his knee to try and wake him. 

Judging by his facial expression, he had been aware she was there, and had waited silently for her to comment first. When he got nothing, he finally looked at her and raised the bottle he had been holding against his thigh in a poor show of a salute. “Why if it isn’t Lady Death with the bleeding heart. Come to check on little old me?”

It was very much a him thing to say, but there was no pomp and circumstance, no overuse of venom. It sounded as raw as he looked. And to her own surprise her heart ached at the change. “Wanted to make sure you didn’t get out," she supplied the excuse.

He laughed- a high, keening thing that was even more worrisome than his usual laugh. Somehow it was worse than his lack of passion in name-calling. “And go where, Deputy? When the Father wants you gone, there’s nowhere to go where he won’t find you eventually. You know that.”

“So this is your plan? Trying to drink yourself to death during downtime? How the Hell does that not count as sinning in your book?”

John held out his pointer finger to her. “You’ve forgotten. Don't you label me as a hypocrite. _I said_ we’re not all without sin. It’s _atoning_ for it that sets us apart from the rest,” he explained. Then, “And… how does that awful song go? ‘ _Can’t raise Hell with a saint_ ’? I’m hardly one, but… why not embrace that now, hm?”

She sighed at his logic. “Awfully convenient.”     

He scoffed. “You’ve never understood. Why do I try?”

“No idea," she answered honestly. 

John attempted to stand in one quick motion, which ended with him nearly tripping over his own feet. He steadied himself on the wall. A couple of strides later his walking looked cleaner, more calculated. She had the absurd thought of envying his tolerance with being that drunk but still having most of his motor functions. He still had verbal function too, but she had a feeling that the only thing that would ever stop the bastard from being perfectly articulate at all times was _death_. It wasn’t until a moment later that she realized he had probably walked so easily because he had a goddamn purpose: backing her into the corner. _Fuck_. She flinched when there was a clang from right beside her. He had slammed his hand against the wall to brace himself against it to carry out whatever the Hell this threat was. Her stomach turned alone at the smell of booze coming off him _._

There was suddenly the feel of the edge of her- well, it was _their_ knife by now- against her cheek; not hard enough to break skin… _yet._ Again, the thought that he could still manage not crossing that line while drunk was hilarious but believable, considering who was holding it. She swallowed hard. Why the fuck was she finding things funny at a time like that? Maybe she was finally, finally losing her damned mind. It was about time, really. Insanity might have been a good change of pace. 

He scoffed after a moment and leaned dangerously close to her so their faces were barely a couple of inches apart. “I have lost _everything_. Because of _you_ ,” John hissed.

She arched back, desperate to get space between them. “That was your brother. Not me. You said yourself, I was the merciful one to you. Or was that just another one of your lies to fuck over me and your brother at the same time? I was counting on the fact that he loved you to ensure everything went my way and my friends got out of this shitshow safely. How the fuck should I have known that he was going to pick the fucking cult over you?” she realized how fucking stupid of a defense that wasa the second her jerked back, and she flinched, fully expecting to get hit or stabbed-

but there was a clatter a few feet away. She opened one eye to find he had launched the knife across the room. She exhaled sharply in relief, but immediately his hand was back, clamped around her throat.

_Right, Joseph- still a very, very sore subject._

He was suddenly entirely in her space and even closer than he had been seconds ago- but now his entire body was nearly touching hers, with barely any breathing room between them, and her chest tightened accordingly.

He snarled at her to boot, and Nicolette was immediately aware they had shared the same breath. His head tilted up so his mouth was just short of brushing against hers, and her brain tried to kick into gear. _Surprise, Sharky was right, Addie was at least half right, ‘Worse’ had just gotten to ‘Disastrous’. Abort mission or whatever the fuck this had just turned into, knee him in the dick and run._

Before anything could progress, he inhaled sharply, pulled back and released her throat.

She pressed herself further back into the corner. She inched closer to the entryway to the kitchenette.

John pushed off the wall with a fair bit of difficulty. “That’s the most fucked up part of this, isn’t it? We’re made from the same sin. We’re two sides of the same coin on the raggedy edge of absolution, and we _need_ each other. What kind of god would allow that?”

“Joseph’s,” she deadpanned.

He offered another scoff in return, though there wasn't animosity behind it. If anything, he seemed to agree.

She sighed, then motioned at him with a shaky arm. “Sleep _this_ off. Tomorrow you’re taking me to whoever can fix my fucking head.”

He mock saluted again. “A deal’s a deal, Deputy. I’m a man of my word.”

 _A deal with the Devil_ , she reminded herself. “Somehow I doubt that.” She sidled the rest of the way around the corner and practically bolted for the ladder, going up doubletime. She locked the handle back up and turned to return to the house, only to nearly collide with Sharky. “Jesus!”

Sharky merely crossed his arms over his chest, looked her up and down, and squinted at her. “You two take my advice?”

“Wha- no! _God_ , Sharky!”

“Well, ya did leave for a little while, went down there with him and came out all… disheveled-like.”

She stared at him for a few seconds before she straightened the hoodie out. “It wasn’t for lack of trying on his part.”

Sharky’s arms immediately dropped. “Wait, you tellin’ me he-”

He looked furious for the first time, and she had half a mind to tell him ‘yes’ just to see what kind of damage he’d do to the other man. “No! May...? _No_. Just… I don’t even know what the fuck that was. But it wasn’t… _that_. Go figure.”

“Good. Then you owe me twenty bucks.”

She blinked at him for a few seconds.

“Our bets! Remember? Whether or not he bats for both teams, and then if he wants to bone you after all.”

“Then… I’m pretty sure we’re even,” she pointed out before she walked around him and headed back towards the house.

“Wait, what? You can’t just leave me with that and walk away- _where are you going, Dep_?! DEP!”

 


	5. Stuck in the Middle With You

Nicolette took a little too much satisfaction in seeing John moving around very slowly the next morning. She had gotten up early straight out of a sound sleep when she subconsciously seemed to realize she had left him down there with the knife. She had immediately jumped off the couch and bolted for the bunker, gone down, only to find him out cold on the floor again, holding the now-empty bottle of Black Label. She retrieved the knife, went back to the house and attempted to sleep. Two hours later she had gone back to retrieve him to see what the game plan had been, nudging him in the ribs with the heel of her boot none-too-gently to wake him.

He had merely groaned at her before shoving her foot away. He had to climb up the couch in order to get to his feet, and even then had a hard time with it. He gave up halfway up and collapsed against it. “Does Boshaw have anything resembling water, or is it all just alcohol?” he glanced up at her, and when she shrugged, he groaned again. “If we’re in this together, you’re going to have to be a little more accommodating, here," he pointed out.

She scoffed. “This isn’t my house-” 

"Please, like you two haven't shacked up once, of course you know," John countered. 

She stared at him, then laughed. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised at the fact that he chose now to point out that particular opinion, but she still was.  "Are you...? Wow. Gonna mark me up for an assumption now? Why don't you mark yourself with Envy there, because judging by your tone and what half this fucking county thinks, you're-" 

“Cut the bullshit," John snapped. 

She arched an eyebrow. “You should talk.” 

John shook his head. “Considering I have been doing nothing but _telling the truth_ -”

She took a little comfort in realizing that he had been more offended about the lying angle than his own... feelings on her. She went to open her mouth to protest further and he stepped forward in a silent show of defiance, ready to come back at her with anything. They both stopped short when her radio started crackling. It had been so long since there had been anything passing through any channel, they both stared at it for a while.

_“Deputy, if you're out there, it’s Jerome. I… have a few questions. And I was sent something to give to you. I’d like it if you came by the Spread Eagle so… we can handle both tasks.”_

Nicolette looked from the radio to John. She would have rather died than gone into Falls End with him, considering what had gone down the last time they were there. She knew what the questions would entail, and she figured she wouldn’t even know where to begin. Her hand hovered over the talk button.

While in hindsight she knew she should’ve seen it coming, John made the decision for her. His hand was at her hip and unhooking the radio from the belt hook before she could even protest. He attempted to hold her at an arm’s length away when she lunged, but she managed to avoid his arm so with some maneuvering he looped his free arm around her forearms and yanked her against his chest. When  she finally gave in, he sighed and hit the talk button. “Hello, Pastor! That sounds like a _wonderful_ idea!”

“ _... John? What have you done with_ -”

John rolled his eyes. “Your deputy is alive and unharmed, I promise. It would be too much of a waste to end her life now.”

“ _Then I want proof of life._ ”

John groaned again and held up the radio to her.  

Nicolette sighed. “I’m here, Jerome. I’m fine. I take what you just heard is one of the things you wanted to talk about.”

“ _It is._ ”

She sighed. He sounded like a disappointed father. Which was the last thing she wanted with him.“Yeah, I don’t…” she looked around. “It’s… complicated. I just… there’s a good reason, I promise. I’m still me, no mind control, no manipulation, no nothing,” she told him. “What’s the thing that came for me? Should I be worried? Is it big enough to have a body part in it?” she asked. She meant it as a joke initially, but it stopped being funny the second she realized she wouldn’t put doing that above any of the Seeds- especially the one standing behind her. She felt John chuckle and didn’t even hear it, and somehow that made it worse.

 _“No. It’s a DVD.  Came by mail yesterday. It’s… from Missoula. Looks like the Sheriff’s handwriting on the envelope_.”

Her face fell and her heart ached at the mere mention of Earl.  She grabbed for the radio, and was surprised when he didn’t fight her on taking it back. She had the brief thought that it looked like his grip on it had loosened and he had started to hand it to her before she even reached for it, but she figured it had been her imagination.  “I’ll- _we’ll_ be there within an hour,” she responded.

“ _Is that wise? Can you-_ ”

“I’m not leaving him here. You have a population who hates him there. Sharky’s got a whole lot of nothing around him. We’ll figure something out when I get there.”

“ _Fair enough_.”

* * *

 

‘Figure something out’ turned out to be closing up the Spread Eagle during lunch hours with the promise of ‘a bigass barbecue dinner’ later to make up for it.

Nicolette and John had waited until there was little to no foot traffic, and gone into the bar. She thought she had seen John divert to one of the houses for a second, but before she knew it, he had returned to her side.

Jerome had wordlessly handed her an old portable DVD player he had scrounged up, along with a manilla envelope. His hand lingered on hers when he passed it over- another silent gesture of support. Then, immediately he set John with a frown, retrieved the shotgun that was leaning up against the bar, sat down at the stool nearest him, and motioned at John to sit down in the next one over.

John opened his mouth to retort, but then Mary May was there, rifle in hand and pointed at him. “Not a word," she growled. 

“Fine,” John replied, more to spite them even with one than anything. He sat down and made a face at Nicolette when Jerome immediately leveled the shotgun at his back.

She smiled and shrugged. She turned her attention back to the items she had been given, and looked around.

“My place is unlocked upstairs,” Mary Mary offered.

“I’ll… stay in the hallway,” Nicolette replied. She set John with another warning look, and it was his turn to grin and shrug back. She turned to the stairs, went up, and leaned on Mary May’s apartment’s door. She took the DVD out of the envelope with a shaky hand. Christ, what was this going to be? She inhaled sharply, turned on the player, hit play and waited with bated breath. 

The Sheriff looked back at her on the screen. He looked much older than the last time she had seen him- obviously fallout from their last encounter, from their entire time there. Just hearing Jerome say his name had been bad. Seeing the man himself was loads worse. It was enough to make her heart clench and her eyes water already. This was not going to end well.

“ _Hey, Kid. I… was gonna write you, but then I figured you probably wouldn’t trust anything that wasn’t my actual self telling you all this after everything. I just… I wanted to let you know we - Hudson and me, we got out. We made it home. We’re okay. We owed you this check in. And it’s just me standing here because Hudson feels bad about screaming at you in the damned truck.”_

She let out some noise that even she wasn’t sure was a gasp, laugh or sob, but the fact that the tears that she had felt coming up seconds ago were already blurring her vision made her figure it was more the latter. That mere sentence was a Hell of a lot to process. Seeing the Sheriff, the closest thing the had to a father alive and well but still apparently worried about her enough that he made this almost broke her right off the bat. And then the fact that Hudson felt fucking bad for screaming in response to watching her _murder_ Staci after all they had been through together or separate made it worse. She had been called the bleeding heart time and time again by _everyone_. No one ever considered Joey in that role. She made the same noise again and immediately pressed her fingers over her mouth to stifle any more that she knew would come. The last thing she needed was anybody at the bar hearing it, least of all the one who would benefit from the moment of weakness.

Onscreen, Earl glanced at his hands before continuing. _“We don’t blame you for Staci. I need you to know that, too. What you did was that damned Bliss, or Jacob, or… whatever the fuck else there was that you went through that you didn't tell me because you didn't wanna worry me. It wasn’t you. I’d bet Staci knew it, too.”_

That alone ruined her efforts in stifling anything. That was _twice_ now that she had heard it. _'It wasn’t you. Eli knew that.' 'It wasn’t you. Staci knew it'_. Eli was one thing, but Staci was another. Staci knew it, but knew it _intimately_. And here she was, alive and well, and he was fucking dead. And even with his fucking blessing before she pulled the trigger, she had killed him without a second thought cold blood without considering that he might’ve gotten out of that haze, too. And Earl was saying it was _okay_ , that he would've _understood_. He might've understood, but she had still put him down like a rabid fucking dog when he had deserved better. She had to live with that.  The sobs came freely then, loud and uncontrollable.

There was a quiet, pained, “Oh, Honey…” from a few feet off to the side, and a moment later, there were arms around her. She had been on the receiving end of Mary May’s hugs too many times to not know it on feel alone, and she let herself lean into it. The contact was enough to calm her a bit.

Earl blinked a couple of times and looked away, almost like he had known that the last admission might’ve caused that reaction. _“I uh, put in my paperwork for retirement within the first ten minutes of getting back here. Thought you’d appreciate that. I think I can live with boredom after everything.”_

That alone did the trick. Her resulting laugh calmed the sobs for the most part, though the Staci wound was going to be ripped open for a while- if it would ever close, at that.

 _“I just… that’s it. Short and sweet. Figured if you’re still there, fighting the good fight or just hiding out, you’d want to know all that… … I love you, kiddo. I’ve considered you my own damn kid since I pulled you and your mom out of that disaster all those years ago. I’m proud of you. Always have been, always will be.”_  He paused again, then bristled and straightened his shoulders with a quick shake. 

Nicolette laughed again. He had never been one ‘to get sappy’ as he called it, so that was his tell whenever he crossed that line- _‘alright’ now that that’s over with, back to business’_ he had said once.

He continued on the video: “ _Just… … get something back to me if you do get this, alright? Been worried sick about you.”_ The Sheriff reached to turn off the camera, and that was that. The change in his tone from heart-on-his-sleeve to his usual dry tone prompted another laugh.

Mary May, who had been leaning back to try and give the illusion of privacy after intruding like that risked petting her hair. When she heard Nicolette’s breathing calm, she helped her to her feet and helped her into the apartment. They reached the living room and she sat her down on the couch.

“You gonna be okay?” she asked after a moment.

“No, never, but… that… made it a little better,” she replied. She immediately lifted her head from Mary May’s shoulder. “Hold up, if you’re here, who’s-”

“Relax. Casey’s got a cleaver dangerously close to John’s lap right now. I doubt him of all people wants to lose that particular appendage, especially if you two are friends now.”

Nicolette wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for that particular distraction or not- especially now that there was more weight to it than expected. “Not you, too.”

“Honey, the whole Valley sees his obsession. But… seriously? You kept him alive?”

“It was a bargaining chip,” Nicolette objected into her friend’s shoulder. She needed to make a fucking sign that broke down her logic and hang  it around John's neck at this rate. “It backfired because Joseph’s fucking batshit crazier than I thought. Now John wants to kill him and wants my help, and… I’m kind of okay with that.”

“And you’re sure we can trust-”

“First of all, there’s no ‘we’ here. This is my fight, not-”

Mary May nudged her shoulder with hers. “Bullshit. You’ve saved all our hides. What _you_ do, _we_ back you up with.”

“Fine. And no. There’s absolutely no trust here. It’s desperation. It’s probably gonna be a showdown at the OK Corral once Joseph’s… dealt with.”

“And if… Joseph ends up being right about the...  End of Days if that shit happens?” Mary May asked. It was a guarded question, and even she leaned away like she shouldn’t have said it.

Nicolette sighed. “Look, I’ve… the shit I saw in the Bliss was too real, alright? I’m starting to wonder if there’s not some truth to it, but Joseph still needs to be stopped. And when it happens, I’ll tell you. And If it… if it ends as badly as Joseph says… then I want you to be as close to a goddamn bunker as you can be, alright. You didn’t want to leave before because you had a life here, you had something to defend, and you would've been leaving on Peggie terms. This time around it’s gonna be mine, alright? Get out of here for my sake, on my terms,” she requested. She had rehearsed such a speech to the Ryes after they had their daughter, so it was as much of a test run as it would ever be. She sighed in relief when Mary May paused a while to consider, then offered a determined nod.

“You got it,” Mary May agreed.

“Good. Got a paper, pen and an envelope?”

Mary May nodded and got up to retrieve it.

When she gave it back, Nicolette stared at the paper for a while. Where could she begin? Tell him nothing? Tell him everything? Lord knows he deserved to know. Still, the whole truth would probably send him back to Hope County, guns blazing. She settled for simple: “Love you too. I'll be fine alone. No cavalry. I’ll keep in touch, promise.” She folded up the note, tucked it into the envelope, write the return address and handed it back to Mary May. “I’m trusting this to you, alright? I can’t get this out on my own with the giant ass target on my back.”

Mary May took it and nodded. “I’ll make sure it gets out.” She got up. “Come on, let’s let Jerome get a word in before you and John do… whatever it is you’re gonna do.”

The pair of them left the apartment and went back to the bar. Mary May took Jerome’s place in flanking John, and Jerome took Nicolette to the other side of the bar.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so too, believe me. Look, I feel like I owe you the biggest apology for pulling this-”

“I think it’s Nick that you-”

“He knows. He’s not happy, but… he trusts me.”

Jerome considered the information. He turned back around to eye John. “I’m not saying I don’t. You’ve earned my unyielding trust and more.  I-”

“I know. Wolves and lions, yada yada yada.”

Jerome laughed quietly, and she was relieved there was no animosity behind it. “A matter of days with him and you’re already disrespecting my sermons?”

“Not disrespecting. I’ve just heard it all already and I know I’m gonna get even more earfuls. Also, I mean, he’s the one who took your and Joseph’s animal metaphors to heart and used it in that last video with the snake angle.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jerome countered. “So… what does ‘mercifully’ entail?”

She sighed. “Ask Mary May.” She hopped up. “Alright, John. I helped you. Let’s get to returning that favor. If we need to get back up to the mountains, we need to get going now. It’ll be dark before long.”

“Thank _God_. I was getting bored,” John replied, casting an extra-long glance at Jerome.

Nicolette huffed and took him by the wrist and gave it a none-to-gentle yank.

John hopped off the stool and winked at the others before he let her lead him out of the bar.

“So… you mentioned knowing someone who can help me with the conditioning thing. Where can I find them?”

“Right here,” John tossed his hands out. “That little delivery of yours couldn’t have been timed more perfectly.”

“What?” Nicolette frowned.

John offered another one of his predatory grins. “You poor, naive _girl_. All that wrath, and still you have no idea how wrong you could be in feeling secure somewhere,” he set his hands on her shoulders, and when a shadow passed the window of the bar, he slid them up to cup her face. “You really don’t think we had people in this very town making sure everything went as close to our way as we could manage until you came along and ruined it all?”

She frowned. “The Hell does that mean?”

"It means you should've really paid attention more in this place," he explained. He turned on his heel and crossed the street without another word, and she ran to follow him. They made it halfway across the field towards the remains of the silo she had taken out weeks ago. He immediately turned back around proceeded to manhandle her against him until they were in a position mirroring their fight for the radio before.

She kicked wildly at his knees for a moment, and he lifted her an inch off the ground. “Sshhhhh, shhhh. Quiet now, dear. You need to start believing me when I say that I mean you no harm… for now. I called in... _a favor_ when you weren't looking. This… just has to look real. Ou-  _Joseph_ ’s doctor is quite the paranoid little fellow. Can’t have him smelling an alliance just yet.”

“You and I just walked halfway here shoulder to shoulder.”

“It’s called a vantage point, Deputy. You of all people should know that with those sniper skills of yours. My contact couldn't see us until now, so there was no need for this.”

She groaned again, and when he nudged her lower back with his free hand, she walked the rest of the way to the covered barn. She eyed the surrounding areas, looking for any trace of anybody outside of people in town behind them.

“The doctor should be around for his little delivery any minute,” John explained. “And I- ”

Nicolette squinted when he stopped mid-sentence and coughed oddly. His arm that was around her went slack and she risked leaning away from him a bit, only to find that he had stepped back and had started to sway on his feet. “John?” she muttered. It took her a moment to realize she was actually _concerned_ about him for a moment.

He frowned at her with a dazed look. He reached up and ran a finger down her face, and she had half a mind to say something about him _trying something_ again when he spoke again.

“Well, this is new- no, _no_ it’s _not,"_ he mused. The look in his eyes went from unfocused to panicked for a second.

“John?” she asked. A moment later, she got her answer when a now-familiar feeling hit her own side. Her vision swam. Bright white lights dotted her vision for a few seconds, and then everything started to go white. She saw some silhouetted figure approaching from behind them and she scrambled for her pistol. She fired off one round at it before the Bliss bullet’s effect started taking hold. She was dimly aware she heard the figure let out a pained shout, and then she heard John hit the ground beside her. She went to squeeze off another round at whoever had attacked them, only to find out that her muscles had already given in. A moment later, she had dropped unceremoniously on top of John, and everything was lost in one last flash of white.


	6. The Wrong Judas

It was cold and damp and _miserable_.

That was the first thing that Nicolette was aware of when she came to. Out of sheer habit from the last few times she had been lost to Bliss bullets, she had expected to see a Peggie or John or Faith nearby, staring her down with their damn smiles. The possibility that the last few days might've been a fucked up hallucination was almost fitting. 

What she got instead was much, much worse.

Her vision didn’t even need to clear fully before the panic set in.

She was in the first room she always woke up in during the Trials. She was strapped to that same chair contraption, another chair beside her with a projector between them. She strained her neck to see if there were any two waiting victims. She half expected John to be in the other chair, but it was vacant. 

Still, nothing- no one else was there, just her. The projector was off. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not. The fact that Jacob’s voice wasn’t there mocking her helped, though. There was no music, no instantaneous feel of desperation. This was… the Trial without the actual Trial. She was going to experience the place without _whatever the Hell_ had been pumped into her head at the time.

She looked down at the leather straps keeping her arms pinned down. After a fair bit of wriggling one arm, she got the straps on one arm loose enough to slip out of it, and went to work undoing the rest of her bonds.

Once she was free, she went over to the boarded up window and elbowed the slats away. The resulting sunlight that streamed in blinded her for a couple of seconds until things evened out. Her heart skipped a beat all over again.

She knew that border fence. She was inside St. Francis’ somehow. And by the looks of it, she was in the direct middle of the grounds, but there was no song drilling its way into her head, no fainting, no nothing. She was free- though she wondered just how free considering someone had brought her there. 

And she sure as Hell wasn’t going to waste time. She didn’t even know what she was going to do. She just wanted to learn everything she could now. She had found those files about Stacey and the others in the Grand View Hotel. She’d probably find far more in here. She’d finally have answers. She turned around, half expecting to find a weapon on the table behind her, just like she would in the Trials. She nearly choked on her own tongue when it turned out to be a reality.

Her gun and knife were there, laid out neatly just as the first gun always had been.

So this was truly where it had happened. Where her life had gone to complete and utter shit.

She and the other subjects must’ve just been pumped full of Bliss during the trials. It explained all of the little other-worldy details within them- the fires, the floating bits of rock along that drop in the floor- the drop itself- _everything_.

Her fingers suddenly itched to hold the gun, and she clenched her fists a few times to try and will it away until she realized now was possibly the only exception where unleashing that particular side of her was going to work. She needed to find whatever research she could. And John. But he was less important in the grander scheme of things. The whole thing probably had been a setup, after all. She figured he’d show up shortly after she left the room, weapon in hand and intent on killing her again.

She slipped the gun in the waistband of her pants and held the knife at an angle, ready to spring just in case. She left the room, picked a direction, and walked.

To make matters worse, there were distant screams of pain from all different voices on the floor below her. _They’re still making Chosen_ , she realized. 

It wasn’t until a few seconds later that she realized she had zoned out and made it to the room that was usually a fiery mess from sheer muscle memory alone. She stumbled down the nearest hallway, _where she had killed Eli_ , something in the back of her head reminded her bitterly. And then it hit her. The place was practically modeled after the Wolf’s Den. Her heart ached at realizing that should've been a dead giveaway before, it should've clicked with Staci's "you can't ever go back" warning. But it was too late to dwell on that now _._ If she could just make it to where Eli’s observation room would've been, maybe there was an observation room here, too. They would need security somewhere. What better way to see what she was up again than that?

She made it down the next few hallways, and sure enough, she finally came to the replicant of Eli’s abode- with security monitors included. She had never been so happy to be right about a hunch they were all active, showing rooms- cells with people inside them, screaming and howling, no doubt in their own trial or training or simulation or whatever evil whoever was still at it could come up with. It was enough to kill whatever hope she had. She glanced down.

There were papers scattered around the desk. They looked to be reports. Some had Jacob’s handwriting- the quick, sloppy marks in red a stark contrast to the messy but precise black of the doctor’s notes. The latter seemed to be doing most of the work. She thumbed through them to see what she could find. Of course, it only took her three turns before one of the worst results were in her eyeline:

 **_SUBJECT # 007-012  
_** ******S. PRATT**  
**_AGE: 26  
_** **_CONDITION: Favorable_ **

**_SUBJECT SHOWS PROMISE. JACOB THINKS SUBJECT COULD BE USEFUL. PASSED MOST TRIALS. INVOLVEMENT WITH SUBJECT 008-001 MAY DAMAGE SUCCESS.  JACOB SUGGESTS EXPLOITING ATTACHMENT. RUN SUBJECT THROUGH TRIALS. MAKE SURE 008-001 SEES._ **

She swallowed hard and thumbed through the files to reach “Subject 008-001.” She knew what she’d find, but in some fucked up comparison to the notes, she _needed_ to see it.

 **_SUBJECT #008-001  
_ ** **_N. RAYLAN_ **

Her eyes immediately stung all over again. She had to grab hold of the table to have something to anchor herself on. They had forced Staci’s mind over the edge _because of_ _her_.  “ _We don’t blame you for Staci. I need you to know that, too. What you did was that damned Bliss, or Jacob, or… whatever the fuck else there was. It wasn’t you_.” The Sheriff had sounded so confident, but the evidence was right there, literally spelled out. It was _always_ her fault. Joseph had that right, at least.  “Staci, I’m sorry. I’m so _fucking_ sorry.” She forced herself to continue with the rest of her file.

**_JACOB’S FAVORED.  
_** **_AGE: 29_** _  
_ **_CONDITION: PRIME_**

 **_PASSED ALL TRIALS WITH RECORD HIGHS. INCREASE TESTING. CHECK PERFORMANCE IN AUTOMATIC WEAPONS.  
_** **_ANNEDUM: MUSIC BOX RETRIEVED FROM JACOB’S BODY.  
_ ** ******_SUBJECT KEEPS TRYING TO RETURN TO PREMISES. MUST MAKE SECURITY ALERT. USE BOX TO SUBDUE._**

“Favored” rubbed her all sorts of wrong ways. Sure, she had been _the one. ‘It was always only ever going to be you’ Only you_, she recalled bitterly. She had ruined everything. Seeing it on paper made it worse.

She shoved the papers aside in disgust, only to spot what was directly under them. Judging by the shine from the ink, it had been written recently.

 **_SUBJECT #008-002  
_** **_J. SEED  
_** **_AGE: 32_** _  
_ **_CONDITION: PROMISING_**

**_MAY BE PRIME CANDIDATE DUE TO LAST INTERACTION WITH THE FATHER. JOSEPH BELIEVES HE IS DRIVEN BY WRATH LIKE 008-001. PRONE TO FREQUENT BOUTS OF RAGE. EASY TO EXPLOIT. TRAINING TO BEGIN TOMORROW. TESTING THRESHOLD AT 12:30 TODAY, JULY 10TH_**

There was a scream of pain from the level above her, and she jumped up and slammed the papers shut on instinct. She looked up, desperate to find whatever monitor was showing the victim who was losing the fight at that point.

But the closer she got, the more mechanical all the screams sounded.

There were easily twenty people strapped into chairs, or locked in cages. None seemed worse or better than the next. Being on the outside looking in on what she had gone through was entirely surreal.

There was a flicker of movement on one of the corner screens.

A man in a labcoat was leaning over one of the victims. He had approached with a limp, and she was quick to fill in the rest of the details about the blurry figure she had shot at.

A light shone in the corner, and Nicolette figured it was a projector turning on based on her own memory of the layout of the rooms.

The man produced what looked like a scalpel and leaned over the victim. He seemed to stroke their face.

“You will learn, my boy. You have made your mistakes. And you will repent. And _what a repentance_ ,” the man mused. His hand moved up the victim’s body, most likely to cut into the poor soul.

The victim thrashed and let out a low grunt of pain. They happened to land partially in view.

Nicolette’s heart skipped a beat. _John_ was in the chair. _Not so poor after all_. So John had been absolutely wrong in assuming his fate in the Cult hadn’t been entirely public knowledge just yet. After the effort to get his message out, she wondered just why John had expected the other man to _not_ see it.

_John inhaled sharply. “That all you got, Doc? Come on, don’t you hear the stories? I like it rough, if you’re trying to break me - AGH!” the sentiment was cut off when the ‘doctor’ cut along his arm. John gritted his teeth to silence the scream and replaced it with a laugh that was pure manic._

_The doctor left the frame for a moment, talking to himself. “Look at the screen,” he instructed._

_“Not on your life, Doc,” John countered. “I know what this is.”_

Nicolette swallowed hard. She needed to stop this. But John _deserved_ it- at least _this_ , not anything beyond it. This was justified. But where the Hell did ‘justified’ end? When did she become the monster for just sitting there and watching?

The ‘doctor’ left the immediate area and walked over to something offscreen. He pulled what must’ve been a lever and waited.

The camera blinked a couple of times with feedback, and when it came back in full, John was in the middle of thrashing violently again and grunted through clenched teeth.  

 _He’s fucking electrocuting him_ , Nicolette realized. She took note of the blood on John’s lip. His body wasn’t much better with visible slashes on his arms and chest. How long had they been at this- the electrocution _or_ cuts?

_The doctor disappeared, and the sound of electricity coursed through the room. It was enough that  the audio feed into the room crackled with the video this time. “Who are you even trying to impress?! My brother’s dead!” John called after a moment._

_The man heaved a dramatic sigh. “Funny you mention your blood at a time like this. But it is not Jacob that you should be considering here, no.”_

_“Fuck you,” John countered._

_The doctor shook his head. “‘So Judas kiss'd his master, And cried ‘all hail!’ whereas he meant all harm…’_ ” he recited.

_John scoffed. “You’ve got the wrong Judas.”_

The doctor said something the speakers didn’t catch, and moved his hand offscreen again.

John’s resulting scream went straight through her. It was the most pained one she had heard in her time in the Valley from anyone on either side.

 _That. That_ was the dividing line between enjoying justice and being a monster. “Fuck,” she sighed. She checked the other screens for any sign of a layout she could figure out. Their camera was marked ‘12’- a room number, most likely.

_Onscreen, John seemed to have realized his error in sounding so pained. He laughed again. “If that’s how we’re gonna play, let’s go! YES! DO IT AGAIN! YES!”_

That got her attention and brought her back to John telling her the story about his parents. She wasn’t sure if he was lying or not, but the raw desperation in his voice just then gave the story weight the first time. If he was relapsing to that memory, everything was probably fucked if that’s what the doctor was going to use as a trigger for John's wrath. 

She hurried out of the room, picked another direction, hoped it was the right one, and ran the length of the hallway. By some miracle, she  turned one corner, she found what she was looking for.

It was like some operating theater- one entire wall was glass, which was going to end in disaster if the doctor turned around at any time in the next few seconds. She dropped into a crouch and got as close to the wall.

John, to his credit, was still at it. “Come on, Doc! You can do better than that!”

The doctor sauntered back over to John. It was now or never. She eased closer to the doorway.

The doctor was none the wiser, but John caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He made eye contact with her and let out a low, near hysterical laugh that died in his throat quickly. “This particular irony isn’t lost on me, here…” he mused, loud enough for her to hear. It was clearly directed at her.

She hadn't even thought about it like that, but he was right. Here she was, arriving in the room where he was strapped to a chair and about to go through Hell after he had walked in on her in a chair what seemed like ages ago now. She set him another disapproving look, then was confused all over again when John winked at her. It took her a moment to realize he had just helped her. Judging by the wave in the doctor’s jacket, the man had just gone to turn her way and John had spoken to _distract him_ as well as tip her off that he had seen her _._ She silently picked up one of the scalpels on the table nearby. 

The doctor turned his attention back to John. “The irony of the fellow torturer being the tortured? Yes, I suppose there is irony in it. But if you think self-awareness is going to gain my favor after your betrayal, we are hardly finished.”

“Oh, I was hoping so. It was just getting good!” John pointed out.

The doctor snarled and advanced on John.

John made eye contact with Nicolette again, and she realized he had just opened a window of opportunity for her. 

“One thing I never understood about you Seeds: for people desperate to absolve all sin, you wear it so easily. That _pride_ ,” the doctor mused.

Nicolette sidled up behind him.

John exhaled sharply, then laughed- his usual one. “Boy, do I have a great response for that,” he mused.

The doctor frowned. “Well, you are _confessing_ to me now. What is it?”

John sighed dramatically and tilted his head to address Nicolette. “You want to tell him, or should I?”

The doctor looked panicked for a moment and went to turn around. Nicolette beat him to the punch and pressed the scalpel against his jugular. “For a bastard complaining about another man being _prideful_ , you didn’t expect _this_. You left your doors wide fucking open.”

“A mistake I made myself with her. That’s the first thing you learn: Never underestimate that one,” John mused.

“008-001,” the man said. “I should’ve known.”

“You’re damned right. Let him up,” Nicolette instructed. When he made no motion to do so, she pressed the blade into his skin- not enough to damage, but enough to make a point. “You made me the monster, you know I can _and will_ cut you open. _Let. Him. Up._ ”

The doctor took her advice this time and undid John’s bindings.

John got up on less shaky legs than she had expected. She cast a look between him and the doctor. She wasn’t sure if the fact that he was obviously avoiding her eyes gave him another mark in the ‘this was all an act’ category or not.

“Deputy, meet the resident Doctor Frankenstein- Doctor Harlan MacNamara. The mind behind all the conditioning you and your friend went through.”

“We _have_ met, 008-001,” Harlan pointed out.

“Shut up. You speak when spoken to,” Nicolette shot back. “Get in the chair.”

“What?” Harlan asked.

Even John’s head shot up and some of the tiredness in his stance immediately disappeared the moment she gave the order. He watched her carefully as she dug the knife against the doctor's skin- still not enough to break it. 

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Even she didn’t like where her brain was going- what she wanted to do. Worse yet, she wasn’t sure if she could blame Jacob’s influence, John’s, or just the fact that she wanted this deep down. “Get. In. The Chair.”

Harlan looked back at the chair and swallowed hard.

Nicolette scoffed. Naturally. The coward was terrified.  

John was back beside him in an instant. He grabbed him by the back of the neck and squeezed hard. “The lady gave you an order.”

Harlan bristled.

John read the hesitation as refusal and shoved him down into it. He immediately went to work strapping the man in. He pushed off the chair afterward and stumbled a bit. When Nicolette spared him another sideglance, he looked away again and took his place at the far wall.

Harlan looked between them. “This alliance- the Bringer of the Collapse and Judas… it will end in disaster.” Harlan pointed out.

Nicolette ignored him. “How do you reverse the conditioning? How did you get it so fucking concentrated in a matter of days? Months?”

“Depends on the subject. Your friend 0007-012 only took _hours_ to start breaking.”

It was meant to anger her, and damn it, it did. She’d give him exactly what he wanted. She retrieved the scalpel and closed the distance between them so quickly that even John stepped back. She brought the scalpel hard into the man’s thigh, and the resulting scream was music to her ears, as much as the reaction disgusted her. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Is it not?”

She twisted the blade. “I’m really, really not in the mood for this. Answer the fucking question.”

Harlan gritted his teeth. “It’s basic psychology. Any textbook can tell you how to do it. And undo it,” he forced out.

She snarled again and turned around towards the switch that sent the current through the chair. Something in the back of her head was screaming at her to _stop there, that was fucking enough, this is not you._

But it _was_ John. The man had _just happened_ to drift over to it in the time he had been out of her eyeline, and had been casually leaning on the wall next to the panel. He read her hesitation, heaved a disappointed sigh, reached up and pulled the lever to send a current through the other man. “Whoops," he deadpanned over the electrical sound- and Harlan's resulting scream. 

Harlan's first official scream was on par with John’s most intense one. Another mark of the fucking coward. He couldn’t take what he dished out.

“We still need him,” Nicolette pointed out, a little too evenly than she wished.

John let out another disappointed huff and switched the lever back.

What neither of them counted on, however, was the man glancing up over their shoulders at a clock. And a moment later, he laughed- carefree, like nothing had happened. The anxiety that had been written all over his body faded away. Like who had the upper hand hadn’t changed. “My my, look at the time..." he mused. 

John scoffed. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

Nicolette glanced at the clock- exactly what the bastard had wanted, she realized a moment too late. Once she realized her error, she figured the man would’ve just gone for some sort of weapon or somehow gotten himself loose, but no. Her watching the clock was exactly  what the man was hoping for.

12:58, a mere couple of minutes before 1:00. And then it hit her all over again. The damn chime at the beginning of each trial- it wasn’t just a regular chime- it sounded like a chime for a clock when it hit a new hour. One strike- 1:00. _Shit._ They had two minutes until that would happen, and then all bets were off. She had always thought it was just her around during the trials, but every single person in one of those chairs made her realize that was most likely not the case. She had killed dozens of real people- real prisoners- members of the Resistance, most likely. No wonder Jacob took so many. This was going to be a bloodbath.

“Fuck,” she hissed. She grabbed John's arm. 

John looked down at her hand frowned at her. “What?”

“We need to get out of here. Now,” she replied.

Harlan let out a delighted laugh. 

She stopped in her tracks, swung around at the last second, drew her knife and shoved it hilt-deep into the man’s knee. It was her turn to delight in the man’s scream of pain. She looked at John. “Leave the fucking door open, if they get him, they get him. I’ve got… enough information” she hissed. She had _nothing_ , but he didn’t need to know that. Maybe the bastard had been truthful. Maybe it was just more research she needed to do.

“Ah, but will you two make it out?” Harlan countered.

“We’re damn well gonna try. And if they somehow manage to miss you,” Nicolette began. She drew the knife and brought it up, then down hard directly into the man’s knee again. “Good luck getting out, then around on this when my people and your victims are crawling all over this place. She waited for him to stop screaming and grabbed his jaw. “007-012. His name was Staci Pratt. Remember that when you’re getting shot to Hell. ” She shoved his head down hard so it connected with the metal.

John looked between them. “He’s got a point.”

Nicolette set him with another hard look, then took his arm again and pulled him along as she bolted for the door.

They had barely made it down the flight of stairs leading to the main floor before that telltale bell chimed.

Nicolette stopped in her tracks, just as all Hell broke loose around them. The pained shouts that had dulled to silence or the occasional weak moan exploded into enraged screams. There were metallic sounds, gunshots already. She had to fight the urge to join in with the screams on instinct at the noise.

No. This was wrong. She had thought it was just that goddamn song. It was _everything else on top of that?_ _No. No, no, no._ She threw her head down, trying to think of anything but the buzzing in her ears.

“Not the time, Deputy!” John hissed.

“I don’t really have a _fucking choice, John!”_ she shot back. The buzzing seemed to grow louder.

Even John looked puzzled for a second, but it wasn’t for long, considering one of the future Chosen had caught up with them. He stared at them, but somehow through them, let out a scream of rage and charged. 

John met him halfway.

“Don’t kill him!” Nicolette protested before her knees gave way. She was losing the fight- _and fast_.  

“Are you fucking joking?!” John countered.  He turned his attention back to the victim- apparently just in time, because the man had leveled a rifle at his chest. He barely had time to shove the barrel away before he disarmed the man and slammed the butt of the rifle against the man’s skull. “Not dead,” he pointed out. He glanced up at the ceiling, clearly searching for something.

Nicolette was at a loss at what he could’ve been looking for. Her head pounded in protest, like it was mad at itself for not focusing on trying to shoot anything that moved. “The fuck are you doing? Get out!” Nicolette objected. “There’s no sense in both of us dying! If I’m not making it out of here, you damn well are to get rid of Joseph.”

“Not leaving you,” John protested, then got a far-away look, like he hadn’t expected to say it and he needed to process it. He snapped out of it a moment later. He raised the rifle at one of the corners of the room, then fired. He repeated the action in the other corner a moment later.

Nicolette squinted against her vision going red. She could barely make out his targets, but the rounded off pieces that were now shattered gave her enough of a clue. Speakers. And then it clicked- mostly because she suddenly had some of her mental capacity back since the buzzing had faded- it wasn’t in her head, it was in her ears- the bastard had a _timed broadcast_ set up.

One of the doors across the room opened, and another future Chosen charged out of one of the rooms.

“Time to go!” John called to her, but he sounded miles away- physically this time.

Nicolette got distracted by a small clatter on the floor, and then suddenly she was getting hoisted up into the air- and then _over John’s shoulder_. “What-”

“Considering you’re being decidedly less than helpful right now,” John replied. 

Even through the haze in her head she could tell that his hand hovered on her ass a little too long, and she had a quarter mind left to use said haze to at least hit him in the shoulder in retaliation- until he pulled the pistol from her belt and took off running, firing off shots that went wide or weren’t lethal if someone got too close.

He was humoring her- she’d give him that.

There was a rather loud bang and suddenly sunlight was streaming into her eyes. It wasn’t the break in the red spots in her vision that she had been expecting, but she’d gladly take it. Her heart was still pounding, and she was half convinced she still heard the buzzing.

Before long, she felt John tiring and heard him grunt every few steps. It wasn’t long after that that they came to a stop.

A moment later, he had all but shoved her against the wall of whatever building he had found. His hand was immediately around her jaw, standing chest to chest with her. “You still with me, Deputy?”

 _Kill the weak. Cull the herd._ The call was distant, but still there. _Christ, how far did that sicko broadcast that frequency?_ “I don’t know,” she choked out.

“Look at me," John ordered.

“Kill the weak...” she muttered. _No, no, no._

“Look. At. Me," he repeated. 

He was probably trying to trigger the fail safe, she realized. “Cull the…” she said absently. _No, no, that isn’t right either. Fuck._

The grip on her jaw tightened. _"Nicolette!_ ”

Thankfully, her _actual name_ coming from John’s mouth was enough to throw her for a second. “How…?” she began. 

John ran his fingers through the hair at the side of her head in a gesture that seemed strangely affectionate. “ _There_ you are. Bottle up that wrath. It's _over_. Stay with me.” John instructed.

The red finally lifted itself from her vision and the tightness in her chest faded. She reached up to pull his hand away. She surprised herself when she didn’t shove him off immediately and kept her hand over his for a couple of moments. Whether it was to ground herself or to thank him for saving her _again_ when she couldn’t find words, she wasn’t sure.

John exhaled sharply and gave her the same look he did when she had grabbed him in the church when he was marking her sin. She hadn’t known why she had grabbed his arm like that in some effort to stop him, and wasn’t sure how to read his reaction then, nor did she at that moment.

She nodded. “I’m fine. I’m back. I’m…”

John swallowed hard and pushed off of the wall to put distance between them.

She sighed, desperately trying to collect herself. “ _Not_ fine. What the _fuck_ was that?”

“That… was my plan backfiring. Harder than any of them ever have-including the ones _you_ ruined.”

“What was the plan? ‘Trust the crazy fucking doctor’? Christ, how many people are we gonna meet that knock you down a peg on the list of craziest people in this fucking county?!” Nicolette demanded.

“The plan was making it seem like our alliance went south. Sell it like I was turning you in on an act of good faith- giving him his _pet project_ back. Get all the details about that conditioning you needed in the process.”

“Please don’t call me that," she murmured.

“It’s true.”

“Fuck you," she replied. Silence passed for a while after that. She didn’t know how to feel about it. Days ago, she would’ve loved him shutting the fuck up in her presence for once, and now she wanted him to talk. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he forced out. The same way she had. The same way ‘fine’ always meant  _very much not fine._  

After a while, Nicolette couldn’t take it. “Why didn’t you leave me?”

John looked away. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Her question had been equal parts curiosity and something to break the silence. His, she wasn’t so sure about. She had never seen him sound so _guarded_.

John continued, “I put you in that chair when you were just a thorn in my side. I intended to do you harm. We both know that. I thought you were an ‘eye for an eye’ type. You could've left me back there. Would've made sense. _I_ would've understood." 

"You didn't," she said after a moment. When he looked confused, she shook her head. " _A_ chair. Not _that one_. Your brother and that psychopath back there put me in _that one_. You didn’t _unmake_ me. And that’s why no, I couldn’t leave you there. _No one_ deserves _that_. Not even you, and you deserve _a lot_ ,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. And you’re not that, in the grander scheme of things.” When John stared at her with yet another unreadable expression, it was her turn to scoff. “Yeah. That particular realization was-” she stopped short when in a matter of a couple of seconds, John had pulled something out of his back pocket and held it in her eyeline.

She almost choked on her own tongue when she realized it was _the music box,_ closed up and harmless.

“Doc has a bigger ego than I do. Had the damned thing on him the whole time. Got it out of his pocket when he cut me loose,” he explained. “I wasn't going to hand it over just yet. I was going to hold it over your head for a while, let you _squirm_ -”

He was cut off when the sound of tires coming around the road a few yards away broke the silence around them. A quick glance around the corner, and they realized it was a Peggie truck- with the driver blasting "Oh John" on the radio of all things, adding a whole new level of absurdity to the situation. 

John crowded her against the wall in order to keep out of sight. They strained to listened as it drove on, locking eyes in the process. They didn't dare move until the sounds faded entirely- and once it did, they still didn't move, frozen in place, staring at each other, practically breathing the same air. The moment felt twice as loaded as the first one in Sharky's shelter from days before when he was drunk off his ass and admitting too much. Nicolette noticed there was that same storm going on in the man's eyes, that was certain. Nicolette opened her mouth to say something, and a moment later she had entirely forgotten her intent because John had _lunged_ and slammed his mouth against hers. No hesitation, no mental battle like the last time- pure, uninterrupted _want_. It was nothing like the one he had forced on her when he was laying in the damn mud after their dogfight, under the impression he was dying what seemed like ages ago. 

The far more shocking thing as far as she was concerned was that she had immediately kissed back, arms flying around his shoulders on instinct. 

John, however, look the development in strides. Without breaking the kiss, he set the music box down on the generator beside them so forcefully the generator rattled. He pried his mouth off of hers. “In case you think _that’s_ got anything to do with _this_ ,” he hissed. And then he was on her again. He turned his attention to her neck, alternating rough nips and kisses.

She was concerned at the fact that the thought occurred to her that he'd be the type to use that move as a distraction and then rip her throat out with his teeth but couldn't seem to focus on that fact properly, least of all when he closed what little distance between them they had left in order to grind his hips against hers, which earned him a moan from her that was filthy, even by her own standards. Instead, she wanted to ask if he was going to mark the pair of them with ‘Lust’ after this, but all that came out of her mouth was an embarrassingly needy moan, even by her standards. _Fuck, this is a bad idea. This was all adrenaline. Of course, nothing else. Nothing at all._

John cupped the back of her neck. “I’ve waited too damn long for this, Deputy. So I’m going to do the opposite of my usual. I’m going to give you this one single chance to tell me ' _no'_.”

She arched up against him without even being aware of it. “John...” she began. The first part of his statement sent her brain into another tailspin and she filed the thought that Addie was _more_ than half right away for later. She moaned again. Given their history, she had no right being so turned on _immediately._ She pulled him in closer and arched closer to him. 

John put his hand out between them. “Ah-ah. I need to _hear it_. I am the resident Yes Man, after all.”

 _Arrogant bastard._ Part of her screamed at herself to listen to him, to back out. But she couldn’t. Maybe she had lost her fucking mind after all. Maybe it had just been too long since she had gotten laid. Maybe it was because he was an attractive bastard and he would fit the bill in any other circumstance. Maybe it was because she knew there was some sort of mutual begrudging respect between them, even from day one. She couldn’t say that about any of the others. Maybe because she knew there had always been _something_ there between them that way, even before Sharky, Addie and apparently a quarter of Hope County had called them out on it. The list went on. Maybe to everything- but apparently this. “Yes, you fucking idiot. _Yes_.”

He pounced a third time, pinned her back to the wall and slotted their mouths together again.  

“Christ, how the fuck are you doing this, you just _got tortured_ ,” she forced out once they pulled back to breathe. Sure, she noticed that he still had a lot more of his mind intact during that whole ordeal than she expected between the wink and the insults he had hurled Harlan’s way, and the fact that he had gotten the both of them out of there with next to no problem. But even this was near unreal.

“Been on the receiving end of worse, remember? I told you about how ‘Yes’ began. It’s gonna take a lot more than a few cuts and zaps to take me out,” he answered. When she stopped to look at him a little too closely, he kissed her to stop it, then picked her up in order to balance her on his hips. When she swung her arms and legs around him on instinct, he reached up between them and yanked at the first three buttons on her shirt until they gave way and exposed the sin he had marked on her chest what now felt like ages ago.

She let out a grunt of annoyance that came out far more playful than intended. His only response was running his mouth over the tattoo, and suddenly the protests were the last thing on her mind. She ground her hips against his.

John scoffed again. “Maybe I was wrong about your sin-”

“ _Shut up_ , John.”

He merely hummed, then went to work trying to get her boots off.

She kicked them off once he was done and raised her hips to help him pull her jeans and underwear off. She scrambled to do the same to him. Doing so with one hand and holding onto him for dear life with her other proved to be a far more difficult task than intended considering their choice of setting, so she merely shoved down what she could and pulled him free of his jeans. She looked him in the eye before she sunk down on him, moaning at the fullness. It almost seemed far too intimate. She expected him to run further commentary or mock her about the fact that she was just about soaked already.

John, for once, had nothing to say. He kissed her again, got a better grip on her ass and then started up a quick pace.

She met him halfway with each thrust, digging her heels into his back. She still wasn’t sure if the whole thing was happening. She half expected it to be another hallucination from the Bliss, but it felt too real- too _admittedly amazing_ to be a goddamn figment of her imagination.

He nipped at her neck again, enough to snap her out of her thoughts. She knew he was doing it on purpose to leave marks that she was going to have to explain away to someone while lying through her damn teeth.  She pulled his hair in retaliation until she realized how that was probably spurring him on, judging by his answering moan and a couple of faster, harder thrusts that had her keening.

Their pace turned near punishing, so hard and quick the damned metal wall supporting them rattled. She knew she was going to feel everything in the morning, but couldn't find it in her to care in the present _._  

It wasn’t long after that that John brought her to the edge. She couldn’t help the scream that came from having one of the best orgasms she ever had. Not that she’d tell him that.

John followed her over after a few more seconds, finishing inside her with a shout of his own.

The pair stayed entwined for a while after, breathing hard. She snapped out of the haze for a second when he gave her one last lazy kiss, but was too tired to actively think about it. She returned it and sighed when he touched his forehead to hers. 

Both froze when there was the sound of a door opening a matter of feet around the corner.

“Tell you what, lovebirds, if you’re Peggies, I’ll give you a ten second head start for style!” called a voice.

Nicolette paled. She _knew_ that voice. She looked up at the wall behind her, suddenly dreadfully aware of where they were.

Landsdowne Aistrip- _A.K.A Addie’s favorite spot to hide Tulip._ And the woman herself was _just around the corner._

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” she hit John on the chest a couple of times to get him to get the hint and move and damn near whimpered all over again when he pulled out. She all but dove for her jeans and yanked them back on, and John turned and righted himself as well.  Of course, it was also then that she fully registered everything else that had happened in the last few minutes. She had _fucked_ John _Fucking_ Seed. John Seed had _come inside her_. This was… God, her life was a fucking trainwreck and she just _let_ the shit pile up.

“Ready or not, here I come!” Addie called.

“Addie!” Nicolette went to call, to assure her that it was her, but it came out an uneven squeak. She flinched and waited.

Addie came around the corner, rifle pointed straight at them, then froze upon seeing who the 'lovebirds' in question were. “...Well!” she offered a cheeky grin.

Nicolette hated that she couldn’t tell what the Hell Addie could’ve meant by _that_. Addie was equal parts surrogate mother/weird older sister that talked to much about her sex life, and that was quite possibly the worst combination ever. And there was no denying anything when she and John _looked like_ they had just had sex, and she had _screamed_  during that orgasm to boot. There was no room for denial.

“So… was this a thing before Joseph decided to stab you in the back, or after?” Addie asked without missing a beat. 

It took Nicolette a moment to realize she had addressed the question to John, asking so casually, like someone would ask about the weather. 

When neither responded, she beamed again and winked at Nicolette. “Told you it would’ve worked.”

“What would’ve worked?” John asked.

“Nothing!” Nicolette objected. “Absolutely nothing!”. She spotted the music box  out of the corner of her eye, grabbed it, and shoved it into her back pocket.

Addie shrugged, then nodded. “Come on, y’all. Let's get back to the Marina. I had some Peggie trouble not too far from here, they're settling back in, and you’re back on the top of the list of Peggie’s Most Wanted. Someone has to make sure y’all don’t get yourselves killed.”

“Oh, I don’t think Peggies are a major concern we have after the last couple of days we’ve had, Adelaide,” John answered

“That’s _Ms. Drubman_ to you, John. If you ain’t Peggie anymore, I ain’t even gonna pretend to give you the respect you _think_ you deserve.”

John merely made a noise of affirmation.

“Oh, and if you even think of stabbing Nikki here in the back, I’ll cut your pecker off myself.”

“There’s a line for that. You're the third person on it,” John countered.

Addie nodded again, then motioned down the road. “Van’s that way. Let’s go.”

Nicolette practically ran after her, then promptly turned around. ‘Play nicely’ she mouthed. She turned back and hurried after Addie. Step one, get back to the Marina.  Step two, shower for three hours at minimum. Step 3, question every single life choice she ever made.

Sounded like a usual Saturday night before everything had literally gone to Hell.

She had missed those days.


	7. Everyone Thinks I Dodged a Bullet (I Think I Shot the Gun)

The “Drown Self in Self-Pity” Shower only ended up lasting an hour and a half. She had scrubbed herself raw for the first third, and then it had moved onto grilling herself from there, with varying levels of intensity. It had started off morbid and dark, with thoughts about her part in Staci’s fate, Eli’s fate- then decidedly boring with making a list of things around the County she still had yet to do, and then of course, the most recent issue. She had fucked John in the middle of nowhere, with absolutely no protection or anything- not that there had really been options on that front. _There’s a John Seed’s seed joke in there somewhere_ \- “God, Nic, what the fuck?” she hissed to herself.

She dried off and got into the clothes Addie had lent her: a pair of too-short shorts that had the American flag painted across the front, and some low cut black tank top. “Because who wouldn’t want to look like a hot mess while trying to fight a cult?” she had muttered. Addie, of course, had come up with the response “kick Peggie ass, look sexy doing it. Besides, if you wanna keep John wrapped around your pretty little finger-“ and that was about as far as she let Addie go before she bolted for the showers.

She gave herself a once over in the mirror once she was done and tried to pull everything up and down accordingly so she’d look less of a mess, and then all bets were off when she realized the entire right side of her neck and just above that damned tattoo was _covered_ in hickeys. She had lucked out with Addie keeping quiet about that so far, so she had a feeling that her luck would change. She needed a bandana or something. “Should’ve killed him,” she sighed.

She went in search of Addie, and when she found her, the older woman gave her a knowing grin. “You know, I have some foundation that might cover it up if you-”

“Just get me a goddamn bandana, Addie.”

Addie let out a loud laugh at that before doing what she was asked. She went into her house and came out with the requested item- which also bore the American flag.

“Christ,” was the only thing that the younger woman’s brain provided her with in response. She had half a mind to let the hickies fly instead of adding to the Uncle Sam vibe she knew she was toting. Not wanting to weave a story about how she got them won out and she tied it loosely around her neck, yanking at the corners for as much coverage as possible.  

“You know, when I said a nice, long _something or other_ , I didn’t actually mean _all the way_. Close to, but not all of it,” Addie pointed out. “It was Sharky’s idea to actually fuck him.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens,” Nicolette countered.

“And?”

“And _what_?”

“ _How_ _was_ _he_? Come on, help a sister out with that little fantasy-“

“Fuck you, Ad-”

The retort was cut off when there was the sound of people yelling- some were angry, but some sounded like they were cheering- then the sound of water crashing on the beach. Nicolette strained to look in the direction of the yelling. There was a crowd gathering down by the water, all centered around one spot. "The Hell...?" She and Addie exchanged glances before heading over there. Nicolette weaved through the crowd towards the front. Once she found out what had drawn everyone's attention, her heart skipped a beat. 

One of the Resistance members, Tom, if she remembered correctly, was holding John underwater,  pushing him further and further the more John tried to fight him and the two others holding him. The entire marina had apparently gotten a taste of mob mentality- their cheers of joy or anger all seemed centered on encouraging the act. Christ, the Universe really was testing her on being the better person and forcing her to question saving John from a situation he himself had put her in several times. Still, the air bubbles by his head were getting few and far between, and the distinct 'if we do it, we're no better than them' policy came to mind.  "HEY!" she shoved the rest of her way through the crowd. 

Tom looked up at her and still didn't let John up, despite the other man trying to push up against him. "He did to so many of us, it's time to return the favor." 

"Killing him isn't going to bring them back!" she protested. 

"No, but it's a start in the right direction." 

She opened her mouth and shut it a couple of times. She couldn't exactly argue with the logic, and it was karma at its finest again. "Let him up," she found herself requesting for the second time in twenty four hours again. 

"Why did you let him live? Why is he here?!" one of the onlookers called, and the crowd shouted varying forms of agreement. 

"Because I need him to help get rid of Joseph!" 

"He's his brother!" one onlooker called.

"Yeah, he won't kill him!"  another agreed. 

"That remains to be seen, and it's my problem. Right now he's mighty angry at his brother and I can use that, so let. Him. Up." 

When Tom didn't budge and seemed to hold John below the water longer, she huffed. Decision made, she closed the distance between her and Tom, and infuriatingly enough Tom backed up once she got into his face. She reached down and hauled John up, hoping that the man's gasping and sputtering once he surfaces would suffice in satisfying some of the crowd's call for blood. She turned to the crowd. “I know what he's done, I know you're angry, I know he deserves this, but not now.You're all better than this. All of you. Or at least I thought you were. I've been looking out for you because that was my belief. Now leave. Show’s over.” When that only got around half of the remaining people to leave, she looked around. “NOW!”

They all didn’t look convinced.

She sighed, took John by the arm and dragged him back towards the empty tool shed. She shoved him inside, stepped into it and closed the door behind them. 

John all but collapsed against the opposite wall.  "Well..." he said after a moment. "When I had the thought that you were lucky to get a shower after all we just went through, that's not the outcome I expected." He looked at her and sneered. “So...your people throw their own to the wolves just as easily as mine do, hm?”

She squared her shoulders. “You know goddamn well they’re justified.”

“After all you’ve done for them?” John hissed. “Deputy, you’re nauseatingly selfless. That’s why Pride can’t be your sin. But even you deserve more than what they just showed you. _I’ve_ got better respect for you than what you just got.”

“That was more about you than me.”

He scoffed. “My issue isn’t with their attack on me- well, not entirely. Their methods leave… something to be desired.”

She scoffed. “You can’t blame us for wanting some sort of payback for all you’ve done.”

“I can’t blame _them_ ,” John corrected as he made his way over to the corner of the room in order to have something to lean against

“Excuse me?”

John looked her up and down, lingering in her legs a bit too long. “You can try to look like them all you want- and you do now with that eyesore these people call an outfit, but you’re not one of them. Never have been, never will be.”

“Are you trying to alienate me from them or you?” she shot back. “What’s next? That you and I are more alike? Because we’re not.”

John sneered. “That’s not what I was getting at at all. I’ve come to a realization all because of you, Sweetheart. The less you associate with people, the less you need them. Thanks to your meddling, I’ve realized I’m better on my own. There’s a lot less to answer for when you’re not living in someone’s shadow or trying to impress them. It’s _freeing_. I’m just trying to return the favor.”

“‘Living in’… ‘impress’?” she laughed. “You killed countless people just for saying ‘no’ to your fucking cult. That was all you. There’s no remorse, no thinking about the victims, no nothing. Your fucking family made those calls. The fact that you’re pointing the finger at anyone else but yourself makes you still seem a Hell of a lot like Jos-”

“And you don’t?! Think on your time here, Deputy. Think of all you’ve done. You’re no better than me.  All you know is pain and violence. You’re not a hero… except to who you _think_ is on your side. Same as me. _We are_ Wrath, after all. It’s why I didn’t mind them retaliating. I just don’t like an unfair fight,” John answered.

“You sent armies after me at a time.”

“And you survived each time. _You’re_ a _one woman_ army. I planned accordingly with an even field for you. _Joseph_ can’t say the same. Jacob or Faith couldn’t either. You of all people know that the most.”

She stared at him for a while until all the pieces clicked into place. Everyone had called their conflict a game of cat and mouse. " _Someone is not playing by the rules",_  the first attempt at rescuing Hudson in his bunker but the path from where she had been to Hudson's cell being strangely easily accessible most of the time, the constant threats over radio that only got followed through on about a third of the time. Those little details had been the reason she had picked him as her bargaining chip- returning the little incidental breaks he had given her. And now they supposedly weren’t even incidental. He even had a point about the killing thing. Sure, he had gotten there first, he had killed first, but how many Peggies had she killed for just being Peggies at this point? “Fuck,” she said to herself. Sure, it had crossed her mind before, but the fact that he threw it back at her so soon took her by surprise.

Silence passed again. Most of the tension in the argument had broken at their last points, but the air was still thick with it.  “If I’m so much like my brother, why did you pick me for this?” John asked.

“Everything you just said. Joseph seemed to look out for you the most. Also, I already told you. You didn’t make me a machine. You didn’t set me up to watch the closest thing I’ve got to a father get blissed out and nearly hang himself. What did you say all that time ago? That I should be grateful you were the one trying to convert me because you'd take it easier on me? I kinda fell for it, kinda didn’t. I mean, everyone thought you had a bit of a vested interest in me. Figured I could manipulate that if I needed to.”

“And then Joseph happened, and here we are,” John finished. “Ain’t we a pair.”

“Ain’t we just,” she agreed.

The third silence was a nearly companionable one. She looked him over in order to survey the damage they had done before they tried to drown him in a bastardization of one of his Baptisms. Then again, was it a bastardization if the thing being bastardized was a bastardization to begin with? Still, he looked no worse for wear.  The injuries  seemed more superficial than anything. His shirt bore a few new streaks of blood that was most likely his, and one of the sleeves was finally ripping at the shoulder. “You did this to them. We should've seen this coming, right next to water." 

“Well, they are the good guys, after all,' he replied, dripping sarcasm. 

 She rose to her feet. “We need to get you new clothes. Sharky must have something laying around the house…”

“I’d rather die than wear anything of his.”

Nicolette made a wide swiping motion towards the window. “We’ve got people just outside willing to arrange that, considering they already tried.”

“You trying to get me out of my clothes again, Deputy?”

She opened her mouth then firmly shut it, having expected some insult about her people’s skill in fighting, not… that. Of course, the elephant in the room had to come up sometime. “You didn’t really get out of them back there, did you?” she countered.

“Disappointed? I’m not above remedying that if it happens again.”

She scoffed. Leave it to him to be as casual as could be about that. _Fucking hypocrite_. “You’re really embracing this whole sinning thing. Try to tattoo _that one_ on me, we’re gonna have a problem.”

“No. Our little venture in lust can stay between us. No need for bearing it this time.”

“Oh? What changed?” she asked sarcastically. 

“It’s something I can hold over Joseph’s head and he won’t even know it. I got my claws into his precious little harbinger before he could. _And_ got you closer to God that he ever will,” he added with a smirk.

She went red in the face at the implication, opened her mouth and shut it again. She shoved his shoulder, hating how nearly amicable the action was. “Shut up. Sleep off the fights and _try not to get into any new ones."_

“What’s your plan for later?”

“Go raid your old library for psychology books, and get you some clothes that aren’t covered in blood. ‘Help me, help you’ stuff," she answered.

“Fine. Keep the Resistance on a leash and _away from me_ ," John requested. 

“Fine.”

* * *

 

The rest of the night had gone surprisingly smoothly. Nicolette had helped board John back into the shed and had set up a cot right outside the door. The pair of them left for John’s ranch at first light.

By the time they reached it, it was still early enough that there was little to no foot traffic on the premises- not that it made their trigger fingers any less itchy.

Nicolette wanted to laugh when she crossed between whatever Resistance member was around and John just to create some sort of buffer if things went wrong. A matter of weeks ago, she would’ve never thought that would ever be something she would dream of doing.  Part of her was still half convinced that her placement was part of his plan. He probably intended to use her as some sort of human shield. Alas, he was behaving. He had his hands visible and at his sides at most times, shoulders relaxed, made eye contact with anyone around them.

They reached the master bedroom. John made a quick pass around the room. “Only about a quarter of my things have been ransacked. Maybe these fools do have restraint.”

“Or they just don’t have to be materialistic as you,” she answered.

“You wound me, Deputy.”

“Like Hell.”

John shrugged, then retrieved a small bag from one of the closets and tossed it onto his bed. He crossed the room, retrieving a few items of clothing and shoving them into the bag. After a while, he turned to her. “Now. Have I earned the right to shower in my own home, or are we still at square one at this point? You’re welcome to _join me_ -“

“Don’t push your luck. Just make it quick.”

John smirked. “Worth a shot,” he mused. He started to undress, and she turned on her heel to check out the bookshelf on the opposite wall.

It wasn’t much different than the ones downstairs that explained a lot about him. The primary difference was the set of law and criminology books. She thumbed through the latter for anything, even so much as details about cases claiming that someone had been conditioned to do a crime, but to no avail.

She sat down on the foot of his bed til she realized that would have given him at least ten opportunities to mock her. She got up and paced the hallway for a while.

When John emerged, clad in new jeans and T-shirt, it was her turn to arch an eyebrow. “Now who doesn’t look like themselves.”

John merely grunted. “Alright. Now the task _of the year_ starts. We need weapons, and my plane.”

“And the task of the year is... ?” Nicolette asked.

John looked at her and smirked. “What’s your opinion on toppling statues of liars in power, hm?”

“Usually couldn’t give a shit. That one in particular… I’d make an exception for.”

“Excellent.”

 


	8. Burn His Kingdom Down

When Nicolette hit the controls to open the garage door, she glanced John’s way. He had the most peaceful, happy look on his face she had seen on him yet as he looked towards where Affirmation waited for them. And then him accusing her of being the reason he had lost ‘everything’ came to mind. The promise of seeing something familiar was probably the best thing that had happened to him since his life went to shit. So naturally when the door opened fully and John’s smile immediately dropped and some of the light left his eyes, she knew something was monumentally wrong. She turned towards the center of the garage, fully expecting Affirmation to be missing _at best._

It was there. But the American flag had been painted brightly and obnoxiously over the Peggie crosses on the plane's sides.

“What… did you do… to my plane?” John hissed.

“That was all them. You see Nick’s plane out there? That’s the one I deal with. I haven't even been in here since I raided the place." 

John walked over to Affirmation and ran his fingers across the naked metal, promptly sliding them to the belly of the plane to avoid touching the flag. “... We’re finding paint remover the second we’re done here.”

“Alright then,” she agreed. She went for the pilot’s spot out of instinct, then stopped in her tracks. Flying the damn thing meant giving John control of the guns. Sure, it was his home, but it was still a Resistance base with Resistance members working there now. They’d be as good as dead if he tried anything. 

“I’m not going to shoot up my own home, whether its housing the Resistance now or not,” John spoke up, just about reading her thoughts. “I’ve got one target in mind. And I’m not letting you rob me of the opportunity.”

She frowned at him. When he held her gaze for a while, she sighed. “Don’t make me-”

“Regret it. Mm-hm.” He turned his attention back to the plane and climbed in the co-pilot spot.

She groaned before climbing in after him. We’re gonna _fucking die._

As expected, getting Affirmation up in the air and flying stable was a great deal different than flying any of the Carminas, and the fact that the plane’s owner was directly behind her, yelling at her to level the damn wings, hold her steady or the windshield would break, so on and so forth made her wish she knew how to work the ejection seats.

“So… how long have you known my name?”

“Since Nancy told us the day you arrived.”

 _Fucking Nancy._ Something had always seemed off about the woman, starting on the exact day John had just mentioned. Earl had transferred from Missoula to be acting Sheriff when the actual Hope County Sheriff had gone ‘missing’ - obviously meaning murdered, now that she knew the facts. He had demanded her presence weeks later when they lost a handful of other officers. Nancy had looked at her when she walked into the station for a few seconds too long. She vaguely remembered her watching her like a hawk before making a phone call. She should’ve known.

“What? No comment about me not using it?”

“Nope. Just curious.”

She figured cutting him off at the pass would goad him just enough, and judging by his silence, it did. She glanced at the horizon. “Alright, Stone Rendition of the Most Unnecessary Manbun now visible, Johnny Boy.”

John scoffed, then sighed. “Let’s burn his kingdom down.”

She accelerated the plane, and once they made the first pass, John immediately opened fire on the statue.

While his silence was welcome before, she didn’t know what it meant now. She expected him to yell or ramble on and get annoyingly dramatic.

She made another pass, and the sound of concrete breaking filled the sky. She glanced behind her to see what damage he had done. He had beheaded the statue instead of shooting everywhere like she had expected him to.A few more passes later, all that was left of Joseph’s statue was his torso. And then that was gone in seconds, too.

She jumped when her radio crackled to life.

“ _Uh, Kid? It’s Dutch. I’ve been… laying low for a while. Peggie patrol almost found my place. Now, imagine my surprise when I see that goddamn broadcast John put out, and now here you are, running around the county with him. Color me confused, but I’m watching that statue go down and that's got you written all over it, so it can’t be all a sham.”_

She picked up the radio. She wasn’t sure how this particular exchange would go, but the fact that he had ended with that gave her enough hope that he was another one whose loyalty to her was secured. “Dutch, you've got no idea. And uh… yeah, the John thing is uh… complicated at best.”

“ _I’ll bet. Now, you did good just doing this, but I can have you do one better. There’s the copy of Joseph’s Word at the top of that statue. Faith's old personal copy. You know what would really piss our boy off? Setting that thing alight_.”

“Dutch, I like how you think,” she replied. It wasn’t until after she had said it that she realized that particular mission might’ve been far more complicated than Dutch thought. John’s anger was all directed at Joseph. Only some of it was directed at the Peggies, and he said himself he still believed in the Collapse, so he might’ve still seen the contents of the book as truth. Then again, it was _Joseph’_ s Word. “Talk to you later, Dutch. I’m… gonna see about this.”

“ _Be careful. And tell John if he tries anything at any time in this crackpot team-up of yours, I’ll kill him_.”

She laughed. “There’s a pretty damn long line for that right now.”

“ _Good. Dutch out._ ”

“Nic out.”

“The Hell was that about?” John asked.

“We’ve… got a new task that you probably know about already.”

“Book of Joseph,” John supplied sarcastically. He pointed at where the statue’s head used to be, now nothing but iron frame and dust. “Right in his brain, naturally.”

“Typical. Help find a place to land," she requested. 

“Base of the mountain always worked for me. There’s a clearing on the other side. It’s a bitch to land, but that’s all we’ve got closest to us that would work.”

“Does that count as your blessing to crash this thing if it comes to it?”

“At least we’ll both be dead so I won’t kill you if you let that happen.”

The landing did, in fact, end up being next to impossible with the crosswinds coming off the mountain, but she did it.

“Alright. Not as terrible as I’d assume it would be,” John mused- right before a spray of gunfire passed over their heads, missing the windshield by inches. They ducked and waited a few seconds until they were satisfied it was over- for now. “But I’ve wrong before!”

“Imagine that, a shootout is the thing that makes you admit you’ve got faults,” Nicolette pointed out.

John snarled, then when there was a break in the gunfire, he yanked her up and out of the cockpit. “Time to move, Deputy!”

The pair of them hit the ground hard and scrambled for cover. Nicolette tossed John their knife. With a wink, he was up and out of sight. A matter of seconds later, a bloodied sniper rifle sailed through the air and landed a few feet from her. She picked it up and went to work eliminating any visible cultists as she made her way up the steps towards the statue’s entrance. A matter of seconds later, there was the sound of someone to her left gurgling, choking then hitting the floor, and she felt John’s presence just beside the victim. The bastard had saved her life _again_. “You don’t have to come up with me," she pointed out. 

“What? Don’t trust my wrath to get the job done?” John countered.

“Not one bit.”

“Then _trust_ that I don’t wanna miss out on any of this fun,” John responded, kicking at the corpse at his heel.  

“Fair enough. Keep up, Johnny Boy.”

“That’s worse than me saying ‘Deputy’.”

“Exactly,” Nicolette grinned back at him.

He ushered her up the first ladder. The pair went to work dispatching most of the enemies and working their way up to the remnants of the head. It wasn’t until they were two thirds-up, dodging two helicopters' gunfire when Nicolette’s radio crackled to life again:

“ _I see what you’ve done..._ ”

Nicolette stopped in her tracks, and just like a matter of hours ago, John hauled her into the nearest corner with the most cover in order to keep her away from the gunfire when she was distracted. And then _he_ froze, like he had just registered the voice on the other end of the radio himself. Joseph. She hadn’t expected that. She swallowed hard and looked over at John, who was staring at the radio . She turned her attention back to the radio and went to turn it off, only to find that John had already crossed the distance between them in order to stop her, hand clamped tightly against her wrist. She flinched and waited for anything- including their little partnership to suddenly go to shit- or for her to hear "Only You" again over the speaker. It was anybody’s guess.

Of course, she hadn’t even considered a possibility was that John would take her hand away from the radio, seemingly to hear Joseph out, but that was exactly what happened. She glanced down at the knife that he had shoved into his pocket and slowly reached for it out of his eyeline.

Joseph continued: “ _I know what you’re doing. Do you think it funny, using my brother’s plane for this? A last ditch effort to make me feel guilty? I’m not angry, I’m disappointed. My people are coming to show you my displeasure._ ”

Nicolette let out a bark of a laugh accidentally. Usually she would’ve taken pride in his idioms, but that wording was too pathetic with the whole Father angle. _I’m not mad, I’m disappointed. Please._ She wrenched her hand free of John's grip and went for the talk button, only for John to beat her to it.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve felt that way, Joseph,” John countered into the transmitter. “The army is a little extreme, though. Even for you."

There was dead silence for a while on the line, and then: “John.”

For once, Nicolette could hear the emotion in his voice, even with the monotonous delivery.  The hint of confusion and surprise in his voice was finally evident. They finally had a little victory. _He’s human after all._

John scoffed. “Surprised, Brother? _Jacob’s_ people were the best hunters. You sent amateurs after _us_ before.”

“What are you trying to prove, John?” Joseph asked, voice even and emotionless again.

“Only that you made a mistake. And there’s nothing that you can do to fix this one this time,” John answered. He swallowed hard. “Goodbye, Joseph.” He clicked the radio off.

Nicolette let the hand that was going for the knife drop. It was a stupid move, but the last thing she needed was it to escalate if he saw she was going to get a means of killing him before he had even spoken. A moment later, she realized that she had heard the exchange between them because the helicopters had evidently been called off. What the fuck was happening?  She opened her mouth to ask him as much.

“Don’t,” John warned. “Just… don’t.”

“I was just gonna say that the place to process that isn’t here. We need to go. He’ll have more people crawling all over this place soon.”

They walked back to Affirmation without another word, again with little to no resistance from enemies. The place had turned into a ghost town. They got in and returned to Seed Ranch, still in utter silence.

Nicolette wasn’t surprised when they pulled into the hangar and she got out but he didn’t move. After figuring he’d be better off alone with his demons, she got up and left.

 

* * *

 

Finding something to do around the ranch proved harder than expected. For a man who had been so possessive about it, there was next to no signs of John living in the place, so there were very few things to do there. She had a couple of beers with some of the Resistance members who hadn’t lost any trust in her with the news about the team up, followed by a couple of games of pool.

It was nightfall by the time she found John. He had left the hangar and walked into his backyard, dropped into one of the lawn chairs, and apparently not moved since. She sat in the next one next to him after hovering for a while. The fact that he hadn’t attacked her was a good start.

“You know, I thought my faith would be the only thing left untested after… this,” he said after a while. “I always struggled with what Joseph preached. I’ve had two Gods in my life: one where all sin is condemned, and one that embraces it so long as you atone. When you get the shit beaten out of you for challenging one God and then _do_ the beating for people who challenge the other… it’s enough to drive a man mad," he mused. After a few seconds of silence, he laughed, but there was a cold detachment to it. "And then in the end, they both abandon me anyway. And then my own brother did. And then you come along- the reason I have nothing left, and you're the one who _hasn't_ abandoned me.” He scoffed. “Maybe I should take a page from your book and decide being without a God is better.”

“Worked for me.” Nicolette said quietly. When he finally looked at her, clearly waiting for her to elaborate, she shrugged. “You and I have abusive fathers in common. Life was shit, I prayed, God didn’t answer. Whitehorse did.”

John turned to her and gave her another unreadable look. Then, “you just keep making more sense, Deputy. That’s starting to worry me.”

She surprised herself when she merely laughed weakly at the response. Then, nearly immediately, the red line of a sniper’s sights showed up a matter of feet away, interrupting whatever moment they were having. She got to her feet. “Who is that? Where’s the patrol?” 

“That’s not one of yours?” John asked, standing as well. 

“No. It’s… one of my people’s ideas. We don’t use red sights. It's how we tell ourselves apart.” She got up and immediately darted into the woods to find the sniper. John was at her heels a matter of seconds later. They had gotten as far as the main road, with the sniper’s line disappearing and repositioning every time they seemed to gain good ground on it. They spotted a pickup truck, seemingly abandoned and exchanged looks. She saw the red line a few feet off to the left, but then it was gone. She squared her jaw and marched towards where she had seen it- only to have something streak past her.

John grunted again and she turned. There was some sort of tranq dart sticking out of his chest.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” John hissed. He removed it, looked at Nicolette, then promptly went down and out, just like he had with the Bliss bullet.

Nicolette’s heart sunk. Was this Harlan all over again? Had he survived? She charged for the nearest tree and ducked behind it as she looked around. She reached back for her pistol, only to realize she had left it at the ranch- a long run at best away now. Still, it meant support in a fight, and that was better than nothing. She stepped back- only for her back to hit something solid and distinctly human.

An arm circled around her shoulders, and yanked her flush against the chest at her back, and a voice spoke into her ear. “Shh, shhh. You’re safe, I assure you. I mean you no harm...though we both know you deserve it. I’d just like to talk.”

Joseph. _Again._ _Fuck_. She thrashed against him and was infuriated when he held firm, then pulled back, only to grip her shoulders and turn her body so she was facing him. She immediately felt the impact of a bliss bullet at her back and hissed in pain. She flinched when he ran a hand through her hair. There was a gentleness to it that she didn't trust for a second. 

“For someone so determined to kill, you have such heart... such will to forgive, to look beyond the surface…” Joseph mused. He pulled back, let his arm drop and took one of her hands in his.

And just like when she had seen him in Faith’s visions, she let him guide her over to the not-so-abandoned pickup truck, even as the part of her mind that was shutting down from the Bliss screamed at her not to go, it was a trap, he was going to shove her in and then take her somewhere to be tortured.

However, Joseph led her to the back of the truck, a few extra paces away- enough to make the point that he wasn't going to force her into it. He walked to the bed of the pickup truck and unlatched the back piece so it fell away.

The sight that she was met with very nearly forced all the Bliss out of her system.

It was Harlan- but a mess of his corpse at that. He was riddled with bullet holes, just as she had hoped he would’ve been, but someone had cut into him so deeply it made John’s previous work look like _minor scratches_. To say that “Pride”, “Greed” and “Sloth” had been _ripped_ into his skin would’ve been an understatement.  She swallowed hard and stepped closer, morbid fascination taking over. A folder holding what looked like a few pieces of paper had been stuck to his chest, kept there by a hunting knife sticking out of the “e” in Pride.

She figured she wouldn’t have the strength to remove the knife, so she eased a finger under the top of the folder and pulled up to see what was there. The files she had read before were inside, and to her apprehensive belief, she could make out a few choice words: several of which were some variation of “conditioning.” Her breath caught in her throat before she could ask why- not that she could, considering her mind was going blank.  

“A gift,” Joseph announced, directly in her ear. She hadn’t even heard him approach. “For keeping my brother safe.”

Easily thirty questions swam in her head at that, each more accusing than the last. But her vision was growing brighter and whiter as the seconds ticked by. Her knees went weak. To her annoyance, Joseph helped her to the ground. “But you… John… Gates?” she forced out.

“Shhhh. Rest now, my child. You’ve earned it. We will continue all this when you are _well_.”

“Well? meaning?” she managed to protest.

His only response was giving her one of those barely-a-smiles of his, stroking her hair again. He kissed the side of her head, and then she lost consciousness once again.

 


	9. Turn a New Page, Tear the Old One Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. This chapter kicked my ass in every single direction. Hope it doesn't show too much.

Nicolette bolted upright the second she woke up. She didn’t want to take chances of being entirely unaware after the Harlan debacle, and the fact that Joseph was the last one in her presence before she lost consciousness did nothing to ease her nerves. She took in her surroundings- she was in some ridiculously comfortable bed, inside a bedroom with details that looked about as high end as you could get. It didn't seem like anything Joseph would own, but she was expecting anything by then. It wasn't until she saw the small, metal plane statue in the corner that she realized where she must've been, considering everything pointed to John after that. Sure enough, his voice came from her left:

“Easy. You’re back at the ranch. Your patrol’s dead. Found them when I woke up.”

When she looked at him, John didn't so much as look up from his spot at the desk in the corner. He was engrossed in the files Joseph had gifted to her, and she realized he looked as uncomfortable as she’d ever seen him.She stood up slowly and walked over to the window. If Joseph had killed the patrol that was at the Ranch, that was five people down that he had killed just to give her that gift.  So much for a stalemate.  The last few dregs of sunlight were disappearing behind that damned “YES” sign. She edged closer to the window to see the patio below. Her heart sunk when she found it was empty and feared it wasn’t just the patrol Joseph had taken out. “Where is everyone?”

“All out doing a sweep in case whoever attacked your patrol does it again," he replied, still paying attention to the files.

“They left you alone with me?”

“Turns out when an old enemy shows up looking like shit, hauling their unconscious hero behind them and reporting that five of their people are dead, it’s a vote of confidence for the old enemy. I didn’t press the matter.”

She really, really needed to talk to the Resistance about security and alibis. Then again, John would probably have to get his own clause in said security plan. Something like ‘ _trust a quarter as far as you can throw him, but if someone’s shooting at him, you shoot too._ ’ Her eyes flicked back to the papers in his hands.

She felt strangely violated watching him read them over. “What? Cross checking my story about being unmade? Don’t believe me about your brother being such a monster?”

John frowned. “No. I believe all that. I heard enough about it from him and you. But that wasn’t my brother. Jacob died a long time ago. He never came back from the fucking war. It wasn’t my brother who did this to you and your people. It was… _something else_.”

“Whatever helps you sleep better at night,” she muttered.

John tensed. He opened his mouth, then firmly shut it- a clear, silent ‘pick your battles.’. He  sighed. “What did Joseph have to say to you?”

She froze. Telling the truth would be dangerous, but lying was more so.  “What do you mean?”

He scoffed. “Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me. I thought we were passed that.”

 _Fuck, here we go._ “ I don’t know _where_ we are with that, John.”

“You’re avoiding the question. I’ll ask again: what did my brother have to say to you?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “He didn’t _say_ anything. You heard him at the statue-”

“After that!” John snapped. He slammed his hand down on the desk he was beside.

She flinched and shrunk back. And there was morbid humor in the fact that he had done worse in her presence and _to her,_  but _that_ was what sent her back over ten years, sitting in her childhood living room, absolutely terrified of whatever _wrath_ her father had come home with because one single thing hadn’t gone his way at the office.

John glared her way, but when he saw her particular flinch, recognition crossed his face for a second. He unclenched his fist, and then, stranger yet: looked apologetic. He took a while to speak, but kept it even: “I’ve told you I made the mistake of seeing you as a fool _before_ I got to know you. Don’t take _me_ as one now. I woke up in a heap and found you closer to that truck, laid out like you decided to take a goddamn nap on the shoulder. And then there was Harlan’s _body._ I know my brother’s work. What. Did. He. Say?”

She finally opened her eyes and brought her knees tight to her chest. “Not much,” she said quietly.

The man rose to his feet. “ _Deputy_ ,” John tried again.

She flinched and looked at him. She had already pissed him off, and now she was about to admit to something that might make him change sides- not that he was certain he was even on hers. She wanted to lie, manipulate the facts, but the fact that he had saved her life a number of times now and had handed over the most important object in her damned life with only a mild insult convinced her she owed him the truth regardless. She could see the edge of her knife sticking out of his pocket. There was a slim chance she could get to it before he did, but she was closer to the window to escape if needed. She inhaled and exhaled sharply. It was now or never, as tempting as the latter was. “He said Harlan and those notes were a gift for keeping you safe.”

John leaned forward. “I’m not in the mood for bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit. It’s exactly what he said. And then he said we’d continue when I was well- whatever the fuck _that_ means. Could’ve meant the Bliss, or he actually wants me to try to reverse this shit. Probably sees it as a better victory if I’m not fucked up in any way.”

John stared at her again, then turned around sharply. “Well, that is just TYPICAL!” he booted the chair he had been sitting in across the room, then shoved the desk he was next to a foot to the left. “Always has to be so fucking cryptic with everybody unless it’s his PRECIOUS _FUCKING_ FLOCK!”

She rose to her feet carefully. She had learned that him yelling at those random intervals were the worst of the worst moments in his temper, so he had effectively just become a minefield she had to navigate. This clearly wasn’t _remotely_ about Joseph’s message to her. He was probably drawing lines with his own experiences with Joseph being cryptic with him, or the fact that Joseph had talked to _her_ and not his own flesh and blood. The events at her Baptism came back to her. There was definitely something left over from that hanging in the air. She needed an out, and quickly. She figured one out a moment later. It first occurred to her as a distraction, but the more she thought about it, the more it was genuine- and it terrified her. She had a lot to consider.  “I’m sorry.”

The statement was enough to derail his rage judging by the shocked look he gave her. Just like he had the first time she had experienced that temper in his company, he moved to the side to grip the windowsill beside him in order to find any sort of anchor he could. He waited a few moments, but his response was calmer, but no less venomous: “No, you’re _not_.”

Nicolette stood up. “I am. Because you were right when you said you lost everything because of me.  You were a fucking backup plan. You weren’t supposed to be this involved. I took Joseph’s offer. I was supposed to be long gone, or minding my own business, or _cured_ by now, and you were supposed to be back with Joseph, doing… whatever it is you would’ve done. Losing everything can be worse than death. I know it. I lived it until we found Nick and Sharky. I wouldn’t wish that feeling on my worst enemy either. Death was my line in the sand for what you deserved.  And Joseph went and forced you over it anyway, just because I had you with me.”

John remained silent for a while. He had trouble meeting her eyes. "It wasn't because of you, it was because I failed at what he told me to do," he countered- not a reassurance, but a statement of fact, but at least the animosity was no longer aimed at her. He went quiet again, “Why the Hell do you suddenly care?” John hissed, but there was that same look that he had the first time she had said there was a line between what he deserved and didn’t.

At least it was working. She sighed out a chuckle. “Because thanks to this clusterfuck of a situation we’re in, I’ve come to the realization that maybe you’re not the worst thing ever in all this-”

He was across the room and his mouth was on hers before she could finish her thought. It was far gentler than their first, but no less insistent. Not exactly the reaction she was going for, but at least his rage was apparently gone. _Hook, line, sinker._ She exhaled sharply when he pulled back, then froze when he pressed his forehead to hers. One of the first things she had learned in her time in the county was that a forehead touch was the be all, end all of affection for the Seeds, so she had no idea how the Hell she was supposed to take that particular development.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment.

“For… ?”

“Being the only one ballsy enough to acknowledge _that fucking line in what I deserve_ again. And not calling it part of God’s plan.”

Nicolette opened her mouth and shut it. Of course she would crack open another unspoken giant can of worms while trying to close another. And the new one was very clearly about Joseph. She needed to backpedal as quickly as possible. That was a definite no fly zone. "John..."

John must've picked up on the struggle going on in her head because he kissed her again, like he was ashamed of his own slip-up in letting her hear that particular vulnerability brought on from his past.  He paused. “And for the record, maybe you’re not the worst thing ever, either.”

She blinked up at him. “You’re still the most mentally-all-over-the-place, though.”

“Fair. Which reminds me…” he pushed her shoulders back- hard enough for her to land back on the bed.  He loomed over her for a moment, taking in the sight. “Considering the image of you in my bed fueled some rather spectacular fantasies of mine, I’m not going to waste this.”

“Oh has it?” she countered. The particular outcome they were quickly approaching had been Plan C on her list of ways to distract him, but she figured it might've been better if she kept the ball in his court. Besides, she had used sex for far more superficial reasons in the past, he seemed to be using it as a distraction to her just as much as she had planned on using to him, and… goddamn it, who the Hell was she kidding, dark grey morality aside, sex with him had been really, _really_ good, and she was having trouble coming up with an excuse not to let it happen again.

“Well, there’s no blood and dead bodies downstairs, and we’re in a better place towards each other, so why the Hell not?” he mused. He pulled her down the bed by the ankle and muffled whatever smart comment he knew was coming with another kiss. He rolled his hips against hers at a particularly unfair angle.

She gasped and arched up against him. “Jackass." 

“Doesn’t sound like complaint,” John replied.

It was a tangle of limbs trying to get each other undressed. They shoved their clothes into a pile near enough just in case history decided to repeat itself with someone interrupting at a less than opportune time.

John looked her up and down with the same rapt attention- equal parts predatory and admiring.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” Nicolette pointed out.

“I didn’t get to enjoy it properly the last times.”

“Well, you were threatening to cut up Hudson and I the first time and well, we were in a bad spot the last.”

“And what a _sin_ that would’ve ended up being on my part,” John answered, running a hand up her body.

She tried and failed to hold back a resulting whine. “That’s… worse than ‘if these walls could scream’.”

“Finally figured out that was a line, did you? Took you long enough. Funny, I still ended up getting a scream out of you eventually. And I intend to again.”

She scoffed again.

Before she could answer, he stopped her a third time by running his hand back down her body and between her legs. He let out a moan he found her wet already. He nipped at her neck and dipped his fingers inside her briefly before he thumbed at her clit and smirked when she gasped in response. "Maybe sooner than I thought." 

She tossed her head back and bit her lip when he curled his fingers just right, and found herself looking up at a mirror.

There was a _fucking mirror above John’s bed_. Sharky was almost right _again_.

She bit her lip to contain the resulting laugh to make it look like she was lost in the moment. Then again, she had a feeling if he caught her looking too long, he'd have a field day with that information- not that she wasn’t having one of her own at his expense. The fact that she probably couldn’t even tell Sharky about it just about killed her.

John picked up on the hesitation and apparently read it as a challenge. He offered a wicked grin and slid down the bed. 

Nicolette let out another whine when he withdrew his fingers, only to let out another undignified yelp when his mouth replaced them. He wasted no time, licking from her entrance then up to her clit again, then sucked on it for good measure. Her hips bucked up and he reached up to keep her pinned down and went back to fucking her with this tongue.  She bit back a scream when she felt him slip his fingers back inside her in the process. He was already clearly too smug about it, there was no sense in giving him that particular satisfaction just yet. She just wished the man who prided himself on owning up to his sins and being free of them wasn't so fucking good at this particular one. 

John pulled back and nipped at her thigh. "Oh, come now, don't fight it," he teased.

"You know you saying that makes me want to do the exact opposite, right?" 

"Now where's the fun in that?" 

"Shut up and fuck me." 

"I think you have better manners than that," 

She groaned, then, suddenly determined to spite him, she crooked a finger at him in order to bait him to get to eye level with her, and he slid up her body accordingly. She hooked one leg around his hip and turned the both of them so she was straddling his hips- and more importantly on top for once. The look of absolute surprise on his face made the whole thing worth it. She sunk down onto him and started to ride him in earnest.

John, to her surprise, was reduced to a groaning mess, only stopping to dig his nails into her thighs every so often to urge her on.

She had made John Seed speechless. _Surprise minor life goal achieved_. “You know, if I knew this was all it took to shut you up, we should’ve done this ages ago. Would’ve saved me a lot of grief on the radio.” She nearly laughed when the man only managed something that sounded like an affirming grunt. _He can’t even say his damn favorite word. Nic 1, Universe 0._  Well, she supposed it was more Nic 1, Universe 10,000, but a victory was a victory. She resumed the pace she had set. Before long, she could feel her orgasm approach. She chased it until she tipped over the edge, muffling her shout into his shoulder. John followed after a few more thrusts, and to her relief, he pulled out and finished on his sheets.

The pair of them lay panting for a while. Nicolette realized after a moment that she had no idea what to say after that. She was suddenly aware that Addie showing up the first time was probably a blessing, considering it had given them a buffer to not have the moment they were in.

“Remind me… _why_ we didn’t do this sooner?” John asked after a moment.

“Opposite sides of a war, figured you were lying about the whole ‘I’m not here to take your life’ thing…” she replied.

John nodded, clearly having expected that exact answer.

She got up on shaky legs. “Borrowing your shower. Try and weasel your way in, and… you know, I’m not gonna finish that sentence. You’d probably enjoy the outcome too much.”

John grunted again, but it was back to its usual arrogant tone.

She went into the bathroom and sighed when she realized the room itself was nearly a quarter of the size of her entire apartment in Missoula. “Fucking lawyers.” She started up the shower, hardly surprised when John came in after a couple of moments and got in with her. He was apparently determined to get her back for turning the tables on him before, considering he immediately pinned her to the shower wall, ran his hand up her throat and covered her mouth with his again.

A matter of minutes and an another orgasm later, Nicolette wasn’t sure how the Hell they had made that work without slipping once. Usually shower sex had ended in at least one disaster, but now the universe was trying to throw her further into conflict about the whole situation between them.

She made quick work of keeping out of arm’s length after that, finished showering and bolted back out of the bathroom.

She got her clothes back on, then went over to the desk to skim the file on her conditioning. She let out a bitter laugh when she noticed Harlan’s notes on the potential to reverse the conditioning “only in case of emergency” had been folded back and away from the other pages so Harlan's blood wouldn't seep onto them and render the text illegible. Joseph accounted for _everything_.

It all seemed so simple. Go through the same process. Get strapped to a chair, play the song, get images of things that didn’t make her want to kill- ‘family? The Sheriff? The Ryes?’ the scumbag had jotted down, along with the Ryes’ address and charting Earl’s old movements from the prison to a few other bases of operations. But what if that made it worse? What if that just gave her more targets in the long run? Targets she cared about? In the truck, she hadn’t even let her thoughts linger on Staci when she had shot him. It was to protect the other two, but she didn’t even feel anything until after the fact. What could repeating it over and over again do? This wasn’t a Pavlov’s dog situation. There were actual lives on the line.

But she still had to try. She just didn’t know how. And so far her only option for help with the procedure was evil incarnate and very much dead. She had everything and nothing. Again. She heard John shuffling around behind her. “Know any other psychologist-types who might know how to do this?” she asked. 

“Not that didn’t try to kill us lately. But Joseph does. He’s worked that out for you, too,” John answered after a moment.

She turned to frown at him.

He nodded at the folder. “Last page.”

She flipped to it, and sure enough, in what it was now safe to assume was Joseph’s writing was one name:

 _ **Robert Roosevelt**_ '

It was circled neatly at the bottom of the page.

The name sounded familiar, and it took her a moment to realize why.

It was the name she had seen on a few letters scattered around Dutch’s place. It was his _son. The one who had cut all ties because of Dutch's theory about Doomsday._ And a whole other level of complicated just got piled up onto their situation. She really couldn't catch a break, after all. 

“... _F_ _uck_.”


	10. A Matter of Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a filler chapter to try and keep up with an update per week. Back into the swing of things come this weekend, I hope.

“Dutch… come in, Dutch,” Nicolette said into the radio.

It had been a few minutes since the Robert discovery, and she had been dreading the radio call since.

Getting the man to give up information of any sort was going to be a chore. Getting him to reveal information about his estranged son made it worse. The fact that John was most likely going to be in her company made it the worst case scenario. Sure, she admitted she trusted him a hair, but not where Dutch was concerned. Dutch had stayed well-hidden for a reason. Still having a Seed around when the man was as safe as could be was questionable at best. But she didn’t have much choice again. She had counted herself lucky to have the thought of ‘let Dutch call the shots’ before things had the opportunity to get ugly.

“ _Go for Dutch. You okay, Kid? John stab you in the back yet_?”

“She and I are just fine!” John called.

Nicolette had to plant her tongue firmly into her cheek to prevent the laugh when she heard Dutch grunt in disappointment. The moment she got back on track, however, it was gone. “I need a favor. And… I’m desperate. Believe me, I wouldn’t ask this if I wasn’t I just… you’re not gonna like it. At all.”

“ _If John’s-_ ”

“It’s got nothing to do with him!” she protested. _Come on, rip off the damned band-aid_ .  “I… it’s about Robert.” When there was dead silence that even John didn’t want to seem to interrupt, she flinched. _Right. Ripped it off too quickly._ “Dutch?”

“... ... ...  _What about him?_ ”

She exhaled sharply. “I uh… need to see him.”

“ _... Come to the bunker_.”

“But John-”

“ _Bring him. Turn him around a few times, make him walk backwards, throw a bag over his head, I don’t give a shit._ ”

John leaned towards the radio. “Is that really-”

“Yes,” the other two insisted in unison.

“You know I found the hatch entrance to your bunker before, right?” John objected. “I can find it again. Just because I got interrupted the first time-”

“ _Yeah, well, landmines will do that to intruders_ ,” Dutch countered. “ _How many men did you lose during that attempt, again_?”

John scoffed and made no effort to answer.

“Landmines?!” Nicolette cut in.

“ _Relax, kid. I got rid of_ _most_ _of them. Just come here the same way you always come you’ll be fine_.”

“Thanks, Dutch. See you soon. And uh… do me a favor, keep the music off when we get there, huh?”

“ _Uh…_ ”

“Long story. I’ll explain when I’m there. Rook out.”

“ _Dutch out_.”

She looked back at John. “So, option A, B, or C?”

“Well, we already have done the bag option. Can’t turn out any worse than how that went,” John pointed out.

“Fair point,” she agreed. She looked around the main area where Resistance members were gathering for the day and doing a poor job at pretending to not watch them like hawks. She walked over to the piled bags of vegetables in the corner, emptied the contents of one and tossed it at him.

John smirked. “You know, this could look like you’re gonna execute me.”

“Yeah, and?”

John merely laughed again, then put the bag over his head and let her lead him to the nearest truck.

The ride there passed in silence, as did the walk to the doors. She had instructed him down the first few steps and closed the hatch door behind them.

“Are we done with the secrecy now?” John asked.

“Yeah. Go on.”

John took the hood off and immediately frowned. “This man’s practically an urban legend and his bunker is this small?” he walked forward carefully, just past the threshold of the first door. “Even the electric is on the fritz.”  He turned to glance at the other side of the wall.

Nicolette had a defense for Dutch all ready to be spoken, but it immediately died in her throat when she saw the butt of a rifle come up from the corner John had looked at and slam into the man’s face.

John collapsed in a heap, unconscious,  and Dutch stepped out from around the corner. He glanced at her and nodded a greeting. “Hope you don’t mind. Not exactly that eager to give him the grand tour.”

She shrugged. “You know, no harm done. That one was pure karma.”

“Yeah. Jerome mentioned that,” Dutch agreed. “So… what’s this about my son?”

She sighed. “Can we sit?”

Dutch frowned. “Tell me you didn’t find him dead, kid.”

“No, no- not… well, honestly at this rate, I don’t know, but Joseph-” when she saw the man’s eyebrows shoot up, she put her hands up. “That’s why we need to sit. It’s a long story, I don’t trust Joseph, I don’t… exactly trust this one,” she nudged John with her foot. “And I'm not working with Joseph. But… there’s… shit that I’ve told you that I spared some details from, and now it’s a ‘need to know’ thing… because I _really_ need to know about your son.”

“Need to know what?” Dutch asked, crossing his arms over his chest. When he sent her a pleading look in response, he sighed and nodded towards the room he had kept her in before. “Chairs are in there. Dump _him_ in there, too.”

“Got it.”

* * *

 

Nicolette told him every single detail she had spared him in the past. She filled in on the details about why she had disappeared for days in Jacob’s territory, what had happened, the effect of “Only You”, the music box- _everything_.

Dutch had remained quiet for a while, just listening and allowing her to talk. The only movement he did was leaving in order to retrieve a bottle of his good whiskey when she had to stop to get her breathing under control when she had told him about Staci trying to break her out. He had handed it to her silently and taken it back after she had taken a giant swig. He kept it between them as she finished telling him everything. Jacob’s final confrontation, the backup plan about John, the confrontation, the song on the radio, killing Staci (he had stopped to let her chug again at that point) and then the development about Joseph recommending Robert to talk to about conditioning.

“And… you’re sure he can help you with this?”

“No, but… he’s apparently the only psychologist left around that we know of. And one of the other ones are the guy who wired me to be a monster tried to wire John like that, too.”

“And that’s a bad thing… how?”

“Because death is kinder than that,” she replied without missing a beat. She had come up with that at the last minute a matter of hours ago, and it had taken her those hours to realize she _meant it._

Dutch shrugged in agreement after a moment. “You’d know,” he answered. “So… when do you want me to talk to him?”

She gaped at him for a moment. “You don’t have to. I mean, you can- that is, if you want, but I just- I figured there was too much awkward bad blood. I’d be happy with an address so I can talk to him myself, if that’s okay.” _Worst. Delivery. Ever._

Dutch stared at her, but a sad smile crossed his lips. “Yeah. Might be best if it’s just you. Especially if you take your _new boyfriend_ over there-”

She groaned. “Come on. You, too?”

“Kid, I’m old, but I ain’t blind. I know what hickies look like, and I only know three men who you give the time of day and vice versa. One’s happily married, and Sharky ain’t the possessive type. That leaves one.”

She gawked at him again and sputtered for a while, then rearranged the scarf so it fell higher on her neck. “Address, please,” she finally forced out.

“No comment?”

“I’m a grown ass adult, you’re not my father, who I- you know what? No, I’m not going there with you. Point is that isn’t mutually exclusive with me helping this county.  it’s-”

“Complicated? Yeah, you said-”

“Com _pletely_ none of your business,” she finished.

“Just _be careful_.”

“ _Ew,_ Dutch.”

“Not what I was getting at and you know it,” he countered. “And 16 Mountain Pass.  If you follow the road out here and go to Woodson’s Pig Farm, it’s just further up the road, just before the turn for the bridge..”

“Great, because I had just managed to get the smell of burning _everything_ out of my clothes.”

“That’s life, kid.”

She sighed and nodded towards John. “You wanna be in or out when he comes to?”

“I want _you two_ to be out.”

She blinked at him a couple of times. Well, that had been the dumbest oversight on her part yet. “Fair,” Nicolette said after a moment. “Do you uh… want me to tell him anything… for you?”

Dutch was silent for a while, and then, carefully: “Not yet.”

That was a loaded response, but she didn’t want to press him. “Thank you.”

Dutch reached over and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Thank _you_. Now get on back out there, ‘fore he wakes up.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

 

Lugging John out of the bunker was thankfully easier than the last time she had lugged him out of one. She figured it might have been the fact that her mind was racing, trying to figure out just what to say to Robert once she found him and his family.

Once they were at the Devil’s fork, she shook his shoulder “Wakey wakey.”

John grunted after a moment and batted her hands away. “I’m gonna get brain damage before I get killed with how many times you people knock me out,” he pointed out, then looked around. “Well _that_ was anticlimactic.”

“For _you_.”

“Mm. So where are we going?”

“You’ll find out.”

“What, no hood? If he’s Dutch’s family, shouldn’t he be kept secret from the Big Bad Baptist, too? Whatever happened to serve and protect?”

“They’ve got neighbors to look after them. Dutch doesn’t. Unless you had everyone around them killed.”

“Never killed. Only _took_.”

“Same difference, the way you all were.”

“Hardly,” John countered, then stared out the window as she started the car.

The ride down the road was silent until they drove over a hill- and saw a pillar of black smoke rising from exactly where they were headed.

“No. No, no, no, no, no…” Nicolette hissed. She floored the gas pedal.

They were at the address seconds later- watching the damned thing go up in flames. The house itself was almost burned to the ground entirely, nothing left but a few blackened support beams and crumbling exterior walls.

Nicolette swore again and launched herself out of the car. Of course Joseph would play dirty all over again. She had half a mind to call every single person he had taken and Blissed out during the big confrontation. “Sick fucking bastard!” she yelled. She went to run for the house, only to have John come up behind her and toss an arm around her.

“Where are you going?!” John demanded. “The place is _gone_.”

She kicked at his knees, but he held fast. “Checking for survivors. And if there aren’t any, I’m not going back to Dutch without bodies.”

“Like Hell you’re going into that.”

She scoffed. “This is _your_ territory, how the fuck did they know where to go?! Who the fuck told them?!” she demanded.

John glanced from the flames to her. “ _Was_ mine- wait, are you _accusing me_? When would I have had the time to have this planned?! I didn’t even know who this person was a day ago, and I have yet to leave your side since. What would I have to gain from betraying you now?”

She froze. She hadn’t been accusing him- until that very moment. Sure, he was protesting, but it didn’t change the fact that at least part of it was an outright lie. “You were awake before I was. You had the book with his name in it. You could’ve had your people-”

“They are _not_ my people anymore. They made that abundantly clear when they tried to kill _us._ I know it doesn’t look good for me right now, but give me some credit. _Trust me_.”

“And how many people have you said that to hours before you did this to their home before? God, do you really expect me to just blindly trust you after everything you've done?" 

That usual, dangerous look flashed in John’s eyes. “You still fucked me,” he pointed out.

She slapped him before she had even registered she had done it, trying desperately not to focus on the fact that he had made the most truthful point yet. When he let out a hiss that was half pained, half pleasured, she grumbled out another swear, turned on her heel and marched towards the house-

Only for the tree directly next to her to shatter in a flurry of splinters after the sound of a gunshot. “SHIT!”

Something hit her back and sent her to the ground hard, and it took her a minute to realize John had tackled her to the ground to get her out of the line of fire. She kicked at him. “And _you’re_ still saving my life time and time again for a guy who wanted to kill me so many times.”

“We all have our little problems,” John hissed.

Another shot rang out, and the lower part of the three exploded.

“Shit,” Nicolette said again. She shoved John off of her and retrieved her pistol. She fired off one shot and waited.

“CAN’T BURN DOWN A PLACE THAT’S ALREADY BURNED, YOU BASTARDS!”

Her head shot up. That sounded like Dutch, just… less _weathered_. She heard John snarl and reach for their knife, and she grabbed his wrist and shook her head frantically. She risked starting to stand slowly. “Robert?!” she called.

“No shit!” the shooter called.

Nicolette ducked when he fired a third time, then scrambled to her feet fully. “ROBERT ROOSEVELT! STOP! Stop, it’s the Deputy! _I’m_ the Deputy!” she yelled. Sure enough, the man was also the spitting image of his father, just an assumed thirty or so years younger. So the man had burned down his house to stop the Peggies from doing it? What the Hell was that about? Had someone tipped him off that Peggies might be interested? Was it just lower on John’s priorities list on stealing land?

“With John Fucking Seed? Not likely!” Robert called back.

God, she needed to make a PSA of her own at this rate. “Yeah, it’s complicated. Your father sent me, you’re safe!”

Robert hesitated. “What’s my father’s name?” he called.

“Richard. Friends call him Dutch. He’s alive, he’s got a bunker in the middle of this Hell county, has a bunch of fish in it, a hell of a lot of Vietnam War gear-"

Robert lowered the gun.”Would’ve just settled for Robert. No Peggie would know that. No Peggie would make it into the bunker to know the rest, either,” he said carefully. He turned his attention to John. “So… there’s… some sort of truth to that last broadcast?”

John, having learned from his last few experiences, looked to Nicolette for an answer.

Nicolette took a moment, then nodded. “For now,” she said carefully. “Hasn’t betrayed me yet, so there’s that,” she said carefully. She glanced John’s way again, and he looked back, a little too long, having put together that the last part of the sentence was meant for him as much as Robert.

Robert slung his rifle over his shoulder. “What do you need to see me about?”

“Classical conditioning,” she replied without missing a beat.

Robert looked her over carefully. “A-la Jacob and Harlan?” he asked.

Nicolette gaped at him for a moment, then nodded. “Exactly,” she answered. She flinched at his answering dejected sigh. That didn’t bode well at all for the cause.

Robert nodded behind him. “Come on. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Whatever hope she had left promptly died at his tone and wording. Still, she had a ton of questions herself. She just wished she knew where to start.

 


	11. A Choice

The walk to the trailer Robert had apparently called a temporary home as the Peggies were hunting him was a tense one. Even John was quiet for it, but Nicolette had a feeling he just anticipated being knocked out again.

Once they arrived, Robert had explained the whole living situation- the trailer had been strictly for vacations until John had done the “I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down” threat against the Woodson’s, and they had packed up to stay with other family in the area. Nicolette saw the fact that the family in question was Jess’ parents, and sure enough, that was the end of that part, then he had gone on that he had managed to get an old friend to get Anna and Richie out of the county, and he had stayed behind in the trailer, moving every so often so the Peggies wouldn’t get too close to their actual house.

Of course, the Peggies had gotten too close- apparently purely coincidentally, and he had burned the place down rather than see it in Peggie hands. He had given John a pointed look, but John had merely looked back for a while until Robert was the one to break eye contact.

It wasn’t until Robert had addressed giving more thoughts into Dutch’s beliefs about doomsday prep after several of Joseph’s messages that Nicolette realized he was stalling, and whatever hope she had started dwindling. She merely nodded politely and said words of understanding when Robert had explained he hadn’t contacted Dutch since out of guilt.

Yessing a psychologist to death, however, had never gone well for her. Robert had caught onto her sudden change in demeanor, and he sighed heavily after a while.

And then dropped the bomb:

Dead.

Every single one of Jacob and Harlan’s victims that he had attempted to help _were all fucking dead._

He had worked with escapees. They had tracked him down for help, and had relapsed, the reversal had gone wrong, something had triggered and they went to Jacob, or they had just gone insane and ended it all before Robert could even _try_ to help.

That was… significantly worse than what she expected. Maybe even the worst case scenario.

Still, the man had come clean about the biggest detail, so she let him fill in the blanks, even as her world crumpled around her.

It turned out Robert and Harlan had gone to school together. Robert had graduated, started a family, started a practice, the whole ordeal with Dutch happened, the Cult turned into what it was at present, Harlan had tried to recruit him for his ‘experiments’, Robert had refused. But he was a doctor, so the Seeds had decided they could let him ‘be difficult’ for as long as it took until he broke.

She didn’t even have to look to John for confirmation, considering it was just so… every single one of them, she knew it was true. She swore to herself and stared at the floor, desperately trying to not let the madness win her over to add another category to the results of Jacob’s victims in his care.

It was all for _fucking_ nothing.

She bet Joseph counted on that, too.

She muttered a request for some air, not trusting her voice to come up with anything else.

Robert had nodded, and then mentioned that if she chose to go through with it, he could still manage to access a ‘decent place to try the reversal.’

She had merely nodded and promptly marched out the door. Once she made it about ten paces from the trailer, she bent over, and it took all her willpower not to vomit.

For every positive in going through with trying for a reversal, there was a negative. Harlan’s notes said so themselves: she was J _acob’s ‘Favored’_ . She had been pushed the hardest. It was ‘ _only her_ ’, and all that. She still wasn’t sure if that was still just about Eli or the entirety of the Ultimate-Chosen bullshit. That meant she was most likely made of stronger stuff and could withstand whatever reversal went on. Or, it could mean there was far more to undo and it was going to be a disaster, and she was going to _die._

God, letting that happen was almost tempting after all she had been through. But that still left The Ryes, Sharky, Addie, Grace, Dutch- _the entire fucking county_ still at Joseph’s mercy. And she couldn’t let that happen. But she couldn’t defend them with a fucking murder button, either.

On a hair brighter note, at least the ‘going back to Jacob’ option was null and void. There was no Jacob to go back to. Unless she still lost her damn mind and wandered looking for the bastard.

And as much as it physically pained her to admit it, none of the former-survivors had a Seed semi-on their side. The built in fail-safe for a companion would help. But even after their argument from hours ago, she wasn’t sure how much she could trust him, and having John present for the ordeal would most likely not end well if she couldn’t trust him. If she could… well, he’d still be there if things got dire.

Christ, a matter of days ago, she would’ve laughed hysterically if anyone had mentioned she’d be so torn about John being in her presence. He was a fucking staple in her life now, whether she- or he, for that matter, liked it or not.

The door to the trailer opened.

John strolled into view out of the corner of her eye, but still gave her a wide berth. “What’re you going to do?” he asked after a while.

Somehow the fact that there wasn’t anything mocking in his tone- or trying to cut in with his own opinion made everything worse to her.  “I… don’t know. Living as a killing machine, or death and or madness aren’t that great to choose between,” she replied. “I say, to the headcase who tortured people… probably to death.”

“Already told you killing wasn’t my forte. And I got to chose living _and_ madness when I realized we could be a team when I had the choice,” he replied.

“You’ve survived those odds before,” John pointed out. “You were in that truck and headed out of the county when you heard that song and you jumped out rather than kill your people.” She made a face at him, and he shrugged. “Whitehorse’s voice carried in that video,” he said by way of explanation.

She flinched at the name. Then there was one of the biggest things on the ‘What if I die?’ list. Earl wouldn’t know. He’d be home, none the wiser that his surrogate daughter was dead. He’d probably send more messages out to Jerome to check in on her. And then Jerome would have to tell him. And she couldn’t do that to Jerome, either.  “Fuck.” She was wrong. There were next to no positives on the list on either side. There was only one: the reversal would work, and she’d be conditioning free- if nothing went wrong, which apparently it did. A lot. “What would you do?” she asked after a moment.

“You’re asking _me_?” John countered.

You’re all I've got with people I’m letting in on the details. And I’m _trusting_ you to be honest, here.”

“Well, I was able to choose living _and_ madness over death when we made our little deal, so I can’t speak from experience, can I?”

“Hey, from what I’ve seen, I’ve done wonders for your sanity,” she countered. His answering chuckle sounded so genuine, so _human ,_  it almost unnerved her.

John looked back at her. “Still, I can’t answer.”  When she made a face again, he leaned on the tree opposite her.  “Before things went to shit, I spent ages trying to get fear out of you. I never got it. Not even when I threatened Hudson in front of you. But then you broke me out of that _place_ so I wouldn’t go through what you did, and when that chime went off and you knew what was coming… I finally _, finally_ saw that fear. That tells me all I need to know. So, this is bigger than me. I don’t know what you went through, or what you might go through if you do this. It needs to be your choice. It’s not my place to say, so you, my dear, are on your own,” he answered.  As he spoken the last bit, he had reached up and did that same circular motion at his chest she had seen him done in the past.

She looked away. Both times she had seen him do it, she had figured it was some weird little… hypnotic thing he knew. She had seen more bizarre things happen in her field. The fact that he was suddenly doing it now made her uneasy. Still, he had a point- like he did every single time he spoke, now. “Why do you suddenly have to be so sensible?” she muttered after a few moments.

John smiled again. “I will say one thing: I’ve never known you to back down from a fight. You wouldn’t be the Deputy that made my life a living Hell if you weren’t.”

“So that was just a long winded way of saying try to get reconditioned?” she asked after a moment.

“No,” John answered. “It’s a long winded way of saying you’ve made every single decision in this entire county by charging in blind, and overthinking was never your strong suit. Just pick one and run with it.”  

“Again, certain death or insanity wasn’t exactly a _near guaranteed_ result most of the time.”

“Hasn’t it?” John countered again. “You should’ve been dead at least fifty times over by now. God’s looking out for you. _That much_ is guaranteed.”

She wanted to object that it was luck, not God; that no god would be so unkind as to put her through all of what she had been. But they were having another moment, and she didn’t want to ruin it and risk it all with another fight. “Sorry I might fuck up our deal.”

He shook his head. “Deal was off the second Harlan stabbed me in the back.”

She was grateful for the distraction from the debate, but confused all the same. “Then why are you still wi-“

“Ever consider I just _like you,_ Deputy? _”_ John replied. "You've got that will that not many people here have. I respect that, and I plan to stick with it." 

“That would make a lot of things make sense," she offered jokingly. After a few seconds, she looked away. “I’ve gotta do it, don’t I?” she said, but it was mostly to herself. The man had more points than she would’ve liked to admit, whether it was a trap or not. She was a fighter. She had come too far to back down now, even with the odds stacked against her. “Have any last will and testament papers floating around the ranch?”

“Not that kind of lawyer,” he answered.

“Fuck,” she said again.

“It’s small town Montana, with one Hell of a special circumstance. Lined paper will work,” he offered.

She frowned and nodded. “Right.” She got up. “I’m gonna go tell him I’m gonna go through with it. Just… in a few days.”

John nodded. “I’ll wait out here.”

“Afraid of getting knocked out again?”

“ _Hell yes._ ”

She glanced back at the trailer, sighed, and went back inside, ready to tell Robert to get things going. She couldn’t help but feel like she was signing her life away in the process.

* * *

 

Two sleepless days later, Nicolette found herself staring down the makeshift will she had started to write the previous day. She wanted to know why she hadn’t done it yet after everything. Maybe it was just the fact that writing a will at twenty nine wasn’t something she ever thought she’d be doing. The pair had gone back to Sharky’s place to lay low, and she had parked herself on his porch and stared out onto the land as she wrote. It was the last minute finishing touches now. She had made herself a deadline- finish it and go before doubt seeped back into her bones.

It was both a relief and a distraction that John and Sharky had been strangely _civil_ in those two days. John had offered to help with things around the trailer, and Sharky was suspicious but lazy as all Hell, so he had let him. She had joined them out front when they had gone to work on repairing the border fence in his yard.

They had been relatively quiet for a while, so she turned her attention back to the will.

Her mother and Earl got a say in her finances, her apartment- the big things, distributed as they saw fit. Sharky got her truck and guns and anything else that ‘promoted violence and mayhem.’ The Ryes got Boomer. Her college roommate got the living room set she always liked during her visits. She had attached individual notes to each of them- her own goodbyes- promises that it was what she had needed to try, no matter the complications, she loved them, and so on.

The will itself was barely two thirds of a page long even with the more important things, and she wondered if that was because she hadn’t really set down roots anywhere to have more meaningful possessions, or she just couldn’t think of them when Death was staring her down again. Still, it was finally done, or at least as done as her brain would allow for now. _Time to go._

Then, from a few feet ahead:

“What are you gonna do, _stab me_?! Come up with some sin to carve outta me?!” Sharky demanded.

 _So much for civil._ She had looked up at that, naturally, and suddenly she was pretty sure she had seen John go for their knife, and suddenly Sharky was right next to her, having run and vaulted over the entryway banister to get next to her.

“You’re using her as a shield?” John demanded incredulously. 

“Oh, like you haven’t!” Sharky countered.

Nicolette sighed and looked between them. “What the fuck just happened?”

Sharky waved his arms in John's direction. “I was trying to be efficient and get the damn fence done and this one was all ‘no, you gotta take your time with the supports and getting them even’ and shit, and then got mad at me when I moved to his side of the fence to actually finish the damn job instead of wasting time-”

“When _Peggies_ are coming you’re going to want quality compared to a rushed mess,” John began. “And-”

“Enough!” she interrupted. “Christ, look, I know it’s easier said and done with everything but for the love of God, I need at least you two to _get the fuck along_ , because if this thing goes south, if I die, I need the pair of you to get everyone together and make sure Joseph doesn’t survive much longer either. The last thing that’s gonna help that along is if you two try to kill each other.”

“He started it,” Sharky cut in.

John merely grunted, then lifted the shovel he had and shoved it down into the ground. “Call me when _we’re_ leaving.” He headed for the bunker.

Once he disappeared down the ladder, Sharky turned to Nicolette. “Y’all finally fucked, didn’t you? ‘Cause that’s the most agreeable I’ve seen ‘em.”

She huffed and ran a hand through her hair. “I might die, Sharky-”

Sharky blinked a couple of times. “As in, it was a bucket list thing for you, or...?”

“As in _I don’t have time for this conversation,_ " she corrected.

“... That’s not a ‘no’...” Sharky mused. 

She smacked the bill of his hat down over his eyes. Once he fixed it, joking mood suddenly gone, she shoved her will at his chest, the action suddenly making the whole thing more real. She swallowed hard before she continued. “We’re going back now. I want you in charge of this, alright? Just… get it to Jerome.”

To his credit, Sharky stared at the paper for a while, suddenly full aware of what it most likely was and what that meant- as well as the fact that she was trusting him of all people with it. “You sure you don’t want Nick or Kim to-”

She shook her head. “They wouldn’t let me go through with it. I know that you’d at least understand the ‘why’s. Shark, you’re  one of my best friends. I trust you."

Sharky stared at her, then rubbed the back of his neck. "Hell, De- Nic. I just... that's a lot of responsibility n' heavy shit and I-"

She reached forward and cupped his face in her hands. "And there's no one I trust more on the face of this goddamn earth than you to get the job done," she replied. When his panicked look faded to an absolutely conflicted one, she sighed. "Just… maybe don’t use the flamethrower when you have it on you, huh?”

Sharky made a little choked up noise, and her heart broke. Sure enough, he yanked her into a hug a moment later. "You’re my _very best friend_ , you know that? You’re comin’ back. You can do anything. Hell, you yanked whatever stick John’s had lodged up his ass outta there and are planning on beating Joseph to death with it, so you can do anything. Including survive,” he insisted.

“Never use that metaphor again,” she replied, but still pulled him closer. “You’re a fucking idiot."

“Love you too, Nic.”

She flinched and tried desperately not to cry at that, then and there. “Love you too," she agreed for good measure. She gave him a pat on the back that she felt guilty about a moment later, and pulled back.

Sharky nodded. "I'll get it to Jerome- but I'm waiting at least a week for you to get back." 

 She offered a weak smile, then turned on her heel so she faced the bunker.  “John!”

John was up the ladder in a few seconds, like he knew she wasn’t going to linger. He walked over, and when she took the keys to the pickup truck they had commandeered on their way over, he took them from her wordlessly and nodded towards the truck before he started on his way over.  

Nicolette offered one final quick smile at Sharky before she all but power-walked over to it, got in and shut the door. Her chest immediately felt too tight, and it even got worse when John started driving.

They got to the address Robert had mentioned- some decrepit looking medical office somewhere on the outskirts of John’s territory. It did nothing to ease her nerves, but she thankfully didn’t have long to linger on it, considering Robert came out of the building within a few seconds.

He started off with small talk, asking about the drive and the like. For the second time, however, he caught the uneasy looks from the other two and went right back into being all-business. “... First time’s usually the most painful, from what the others have told me," he offered. 

Nicolette smiled weakly, and she knew it didn’t reach her eyes.

Robert had the decency to look apologetic before he motioned at them to follow him.

He led them to a room that was near identical to the Trial room- something that she was positive was brought on by one of the poor bastards before her.  Still, despite the exterior, the place was better lit and still looked cleaner than any place Jacob or Harlan had trained her in. It was utilitarian, but still somehow welcoming- something the other places would never be. It was a small comfort, but a comfort all the same. 

“Do you have the box?” Robert asked after a moment.

She fished the music box out of her pocket and handed it over, flinching all the while.

Robert took it delicately and set it on the table behind her. He motioned at the chair in the middle of the room. “Go on. Strap yourself in.”

“Is that a legal liability thing…?” Nicolette asked before she could stop herself. When she got two puzzled looks in return, she sighed. “Sorry. Humor to cope.”

Robert’s puzzled look dropped and he fixed her with such a neutral expression that was so Dutch it actually comforted her for a few seconds. “It’s a comfort thing,” he corrected her after a while, "they were all terrified of hurting me or anyone they brought."  He went to work setting up fitting her with other pieces of medical equipment. From varying hospital stays or medical tests, she knew there were more things set up to check vitals than monitor brain activity, and that sent her hopes plummeting all over again.

“Right,” Nicolette sighed. She slid into the chair and set up the straps along her legs and one arm, and let Robert do the rest. She watched John settle into the chair across the room from her, produce their knife from his pocket, opened it, and promptly shoved it point first into the table beside him. She sent him a questioning look.

“In case things don’t go well. Only one who gets to kill you is me,” he repeated what he had said what felt like ages ago by now. Still, he didn't meet her eyes this time, and every ounce of threat that had been in the first one was gone in this one. 

Robert looked between them but stayed silent, probably assuming it was best not to question it. He made his way to the box. “Call this a bit of a strange process, but I’ve found getting a baseline going with how long your… … _mania_ lasts. Since you were more or less able to talk yourself down the last time, it might be worth a shot.”

“... Right,” she repeated carefully.

“We’ll go when you say go,” Robert offered.

“Then let’s just get this over with,” she replied.

There was shuffling behind her, the sound of that damned box opening, and the crank being turned. She closed her eyes and waited.

The first few notes of the song started, and her vision started going red. _You chose this_ , she reminded herself. She took one final breath before she let herself surrender to it.


	12. Doubt

Robert had been very, _very_ wrong.

The first time she had surrendered to that damn song had been the easiest of the set she had done so far in the last couple of days. Seeing red, then blacking out, coming to and fighting her way out of it had been a walk in the park for the few minutes it had lasted.

The episodes lasted a matter of minutes. Not enough to do major damage to herself or the other two, but _enough_. She had apparently been lost so much she had bruised her wrists, abdomen and shins to Hell trying to break out of the restraints.

The next few times had been much, much worse. They progressed bit by bit from there. The instructions had been simple from there, each time she went in. ‘Try to stay in the red, stay lucid.’ She had tried a number of times, and at the fourth attempt, it had seemed too much like the trials. She had come out of her haze and promptly vomited on the floor, and Robert had promised they were done until she gave the okay- _if she so wished._

 _You have to,_ she had to remind herself. _He’s not Jacob. This is your call. You’re safe. You’re okay. You’re okay._

It was even worse from there. After a few more tries she had gotten to the point where she could stay away from the blackout.  She got to enjoy that, but the next step was trying to control what her thoughts drifted to once the conditioning kicked in.

Robert had suggested starting with thinking of her friends when she was under. It had apparently worked for the one who ended up going back to Jacob days later.

The concept alone had terrified her, figuring something would go wrong and she’d end up inclined to kill her friends on sight. It was enough so spawn nightmares of herself doing just that starting the second night they had tried it, and kept up from there.

She had woken up on the sixth screaming from that one. It had taken a solid ten minutes that ticked by like years to get the ghost of Nick’s blood off her hands- and for her hands to stop shaking on top of that.

She had half a mind to find a radio and call the man to try to remind herself he was alive and okay if she wasn’t terrified of losing her damn mind at his voice alone after all that.

She had laid back down and tried to will herself back to sleep to no avail. The shakes were back within a few seconds, considering going back to sleep would probably bring that same nightmare back, probably with a different person. It had almost made her miss the damn Bliss-dream where Joseph had shown her what the Voice told him the fate of the world would be. That had felt so real, instilled so much doubt in her. That was _nothing_ compared to this. She pressed herself deeper into the cot Robert had set up for her. It was one of the thinnest, most uncomfortable things she had ever been on, which didn’t help things, but given the circumstances, she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The door to the room she was in cracked open.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop shaking. “Sorry. I’m okay.”

“I thought I asked you to stop lying to me.”

The foot of the bed dipped. She cracked an eye open and went to sit up when she saw John sit at the foot of the bed.

John ran a hand up her arm and pressed down on her elbow to stop her. Once she stopped moving, he moved his hand to her thigh. “Easy,” he chided. 

“What’re you doing?” she muttered.

“Figured you might need someone,” he replied.

She cast an accusatory glance at his hand, still splayed on her thigh.“Not really _in the mood_ right now-”

John scoffed, but didn’t withdraw. “To _talk to._ You know, as fantastic as the sex is, there is more to… _this_ then _that_ after all this, isn’t there? We’ve both mentioned we’re all we’ve got. You need to talk, talk.”

She frowned. “The last time you tried to get me to talk-”

“Circumstances were very, very different,” John cut her off. "I'm not seeking a confession. You say only what you wish to tell me, nothing more." 

Nicolette frowned, but accepted the answer for what it was. She sighed and finally sat up, and he let her this time. She opened her mouth, then firmly shut it and looked away,

John sighed. “Think I _won’t understand_? Think I _don’t care_?” John asked, repeating his own assumptions about her from all those weeks ago. “ _Frustrating_ , isn’t it?”  It was bizarre, hearing them when he was alive and well and not dying- and they weren't trying to kill each other. 

She shook her head. “John…” He had every right going back to that conversation, but she didn’t have the time or mental capacity for it.

“ _Nicolette_ ,” he countered. “ _Let me in_. I’m not your enemy anymore.”

She huffed and gave him a dirty look. “My nightmares are probably your good dreams, for starters. I just woke up from gutting Nick with a fucking SMG. Last night, I shot Sharky between the eyes. That’s _just my fucking imagination_ after doing this. It wasn’t the fucking conditioning.”

“We’ve been at this nonstop for a while. You’ve got a lot going on in that head of yours. It was bound to happen," John pointed out. 

“Yeah, well, I was kind of hoping the madness or death would come later. Not right off the bat.”

“Hasn’t happened yet. This is you we’re talking about. We’ve got a long ways to go before anything gets to your head.”

“Tell that to my subconscious.”

“You’ve just got to keep at it.”

She finally turned her entire body to face him. “You’re not the one going through it. You’re not the one…” she sighed. “You ever have… I guess you would call them Bliss dreams?”

John nodded after a moment.

Nicolette leaned back. “Joseph showed me the Collapse in mine. It felt so fucking real that _I started to believe it,”_ she went on. When he arched an eyebrow, she kicked him with her heel lightly. “Don’t you start. You were still all evidently batshit insane. I said _started to._ Not _did_.”

“What’s your point?” John asked. 

“I haven’t dreamt that vividly since. I felt the wave from those nukes. I felt Joseph touching me. I _just_ _felt my best friends’ blood_ -“

“It’s not the Bliss this time. And just because it happened when you were Blissed our doesn’t mean it will.”

“Says the guy who believes the Collapse is coming," she countered.

“Says the girl who's never let hypothetical odds stacked against her win before now.”

She curled up again, and shot him another look when he lay down next to her. “Then look at it in the physical sense. It felt too real like those Bliss dreams. You don’t think he’s slipping Bliss into me somehow, do you?”

John paused, seeming to consider the possibility, then shook his head. “He’s the most nauseatingly positive, good person I’ve met- and he pointed a gun at us a week ago. So no. Do you really think he’d do that? Do you think he's working for my brother?" 

“You and I are sitting here having a casual conversation and you tried to torture me a matter of weeks ago. Anything is possible.”

John remained silent for that one. After a few seconds, he sighed. “Stop thinking so hard. You’ll get through this. You’re hard to kill. Believe me, I know." 

She was almost touched at his attempt to lighten the mood, but it fell on deaf ears when her world was caving in around her. “What if I don’t get through it?” she countered. She wanted to flinch again. Considering who she was asking, she knew she was really reaching for anybody’s opinion. So she did need someone to talk to. He was right. Again. _Fuck._

“Doubt’s never stopped you before, either.”

“You’re not going to quit, are you?”

“By the sound of it, neither are you. But have you ever actually won any of our conversations?” he countered.

She went to sit up, and he braced his hand on her collar bone to stop her. He tapped the tattoo a couple of times and then looked thoughtful for a moment.  “I’ve got a lot riding on you. Don’t let that tenacity fail us now.”

“And there’s the self-serving bullshit,” she countered.

He smirked. “ _There’s_ Wrath. Prove me wrong if you’re so convinced to fail.”

She went to retort again, then realized she couldn’t. Because she had always operated on spite. Her entire early relationship with the man in front of her could attest to that. It was reverse psychology to the extreme, but he did it well- and enough that the fact that he was using reverse psychology and daring her to fail got her back into throwing herself at the task of surviving the whole damned thing.  “ _Fucking_ lawyer,” she hissed, though there was an appreciative edge to it. She turned sharply onto her other side. She felt him laugh against her back and elbowed him in the ribs. She attempted to get comfortable, ready to go back to sleep- again, out of spite, _and_ to rob him of the opportunity of starting another argument. The best _and_ worst part- it had worked, and she was out cold within a few minutes. The nightmares didn’t stop, but with a little extra brain power and determination, they were far less grisly.

She woke up to find John had fallen asleep with her with an arm tossed over her waist. Her stomach churned when she realized she didn’t exactly mind it.

The days following weren’t much different.

She’d go under, fight her way back, under, back, under and back again, rinse, repeat, she’d call it a day and go back to her room, and John would follow to check in after a while.

The third day of finding out how to fight her way back had been particularly hard on her. _That_ particular nightmare had her killing Joey and Earl like she might’ve had the Sheriff not _shoved her out of the truck._ And the actual song faded into Jacob singing it, which made the whole thing worse.

She had bolted awake, hyperventilating and sure as Hell knew that she wasn’t going to get sleep after that. John had shown up and she had practically jumped him, determined to have some sort of distraction to get her mind off of that last damned image in her head. He had gone to say something the second she went for his belt and started undoing it; but she had kissed him to stop him and promptly yanked him back towards the cot, uttered a determined “ _yes_ ”, and that had been enough for him to understand that it wasn’t the time for talking. It had been their quietest fuck of the bunch, but at least there hadn't been nightmares the rest of the night. 

Nicolette was mortified the next day when Robert had trouble looking either of them in the face. Still, a handful of hours later she had her first success in fighting her way back from ‘The Red Zone’ as they had come to call it, so that was the bigger priority by far.

Her subconscious had been kind enough to keep her sleep nightmare free that night.

John had stopped in, looped an arm around her and waited until she was asleep all the same.

She had started to wonder if it was some bullshit learned-dependency tactic he was attempting on her until she realized it could’ve been _him_ getting the dependency on _her_. After all, he had been the one seeking her out. He had been the one who mentioned that he only had her left as far as familiarity went multiple times.  Then again, of course the guy who had lost everything courtesy of his brother would latch onto anything he could and hold on for dear life.

Shit, she was even sympathizing with him now. _Times change._ The memory of her swearing she would never do such a thing after he had told her about his family life the first time in the bunker came to mind.

The next few days, things had been stable, and she only vomited twice- which was utterly sad that it was an accomplishment at that rate.

It took her a number of tries, but she finally managed to keep herself grounded and out of the red for the most part. It was then that Robert had instructed her to try to focus on anything and everything to distract her from that song in the moment, and had introduced the concept of thinking of her friends and all the positives that came with that.

The following night had been nightmare free again, and she had woken up absolutely beaming that things had finally started to turn around.

A couple of days later she had managed to stay nearly out of the red the entire time.

Two more, and her vision was clear but her head still pounded as the song went on.

Robert had dug his heels in about giving her another day of rest the next day. He had left, citing a ‘previous engagement.’ The other two figured that it had something to do with his family. Nicolette was reluctant to ask for the same reason that John was smart enough not to. The last thing they needed was for genuine curiosity to come off as a threat.

The pair had gone out to sweep the surrounding area for Peggies as a precaution, considering the last few times they thought they had been safe they had been as wrong as could be.

The area was almost entirely devoid of any life outside of a couple of stray deer. It was far too quiet. 

Nicolette had muttered something about Joseph setting something up and coming to ambush them until she remembered that supposedly no one knew about the building, and it was well-hidden in the middle of the woods. 

John, on the other hand, merely offered a bitter “Maybe the Voice told him,” and then headed back towards the building.

She had to run to keep up with him and only made it when he made it into the waiting room of the building and dropped into one of the chairs. She had sat next to him quickly and allowed silence for a while, and then, “... you know you can talk to me, too, right?” She knew it was an odd thing to say, so she offered an apologetic smile when he set her with a disapproving look. “You never really elaborated on your whole viewpoint with this whole thing, Joseph, his visions, the Collapse-”

“There’s nothing to elaborate. It’s to separate things. He’s - _was_ my brother. Like it or not now, I owed him my life. I loved him, madness and all. But it comes with the territory of being a lawyer to yes people who ‘hear voices’ to death…”

She leaned back. “But you built this entire thing on his-”

“You aren’t the only one who dreamed about the Collapse and _felt it_ ,” John cut her off. “Take Joseph out of that, take away the Voice, consider what’s going on in the world, The Collapse a Hell of a thing to not start believing in.”

She stared at the floor for a while. “Yeah, maybe…”

He scoffed again, but stayed quiet otherwise.

Robert came back the next day, and they continued their work.

Within a matter of hours, “Only You” only prompted a tolerable lightheadedness that she figured might as well have come from the developed PTSD from the entire damned thing. The more important part was that from what she had experienced, she could work on it from there. There was no blind rage, no bloodlust- she was just about free. Nic 1, Jacob… well, at least over 50 by now, but she had finally, _finally_ gotten a victory against him. She almost wished he was alive to see it. _Almost._

Still, she was desperate to finally be out of that chair for more than a few hours, and Robert seemed just as desperate to let her get out of it.

He had ushered them out the front door, but not before promising he’d still be there if anything else went wrong or backtracked. It was, after all,  a first victory over the fucked up universe for him, too. He had passed her the music box back and they had been on their way.

Nicolette was beside herself the rest of the day, grinning all the while. She was even grateful that John didn’t even dare start anything with her to ruin it. Probably knew better by then.

They had gone back to Sharky’s, still cautious about being around crowds. The man had spotted them, cheered as loud as Nicolette had ever heard him, locked her in another bear hug. He promptly rambled for a full five minutes about how he knew she’d make it out of the whole ordeal alive, and she had never been so happy to hear the man go on and on _in her life._

It was a few hours by the time he had let them out of his sight for a while.

They had gone to his bunker for the night, Nicolette flopped down into the lower bed, nearly annoyed at herself when John lay next to her and she didn’t think much of it. She didn’t have long to linger on that, however, because exhaustion hit her quickly, victory or not; and she was out in seconds.

Naturally, it was that night that her subconscious decided to screw her over one last time and pulled her into another dream, just like the Bliss ones.

But this one wasn’t a memory, or a ‘what could have been.’

She was back at Joseph’s compound. It was just the two of them- there was the ghost of a conversation she couldn’t make out. She had read him his rights, shoved him around and cuffed him, and there it was, the Bliss dream feeling all over again: she was aware she was dreaming, but skin had never felt like skin in her dream- people were never this warm in her dreams, no one felt so fucking real-

And then _a fucking nuke_ had gone off in the distance, with Joseph looking _right at it_. And then another. And another. A roar had started up in her ears, but Joseph suddenly humming Amazing Grace was still suddenly front and center in her brain, and then just as one of the shockwaves from whichever bomb was closest was about to hit, just as she started to wake up, his voice came up again, it's usual even tone, but there was something mocking behind it: “ _I_ was _right_.”

She woke with a start, and it took her a minute to realize where she was. She was at Sharky’s place. She wasn’t at the Compound, Joseph wasn’t there, she hadn’t just been _wiped out of existence by a bomb_. The movement was apparently quick and drastic enough to apparently crack her forehead into John’s if the man’s answering grunt of pain was any indication. “Christ, I’m never sleeping again…” she hissed to herself.

She and her mother had always combined two idioms. If weird little omens came in threes, it was a sign. She was three for three with dreams that bordered on Joseph’s insane ramblings, and now it was finally, finally enough to get her to question things.She had finally gone over that particular edge of the proverbial cliff. She wasn't just looking over the edge into the endless dark abyss of it anymore. She still knew the man was insane, but the Collapse had felt _too real_ twice now. John was onto something with his own theory about the whole situation. 

John turned away from her. “ _Go back to sleep_. Everyone’s fine-”

“No, no they weren’t. That one wasn’t me. That was... _everyone_ was _not_ fine. That’s as far from _fine_ as my fucking imagination has let anyone be!”  

John turned back again, far more awake than he was seconds ago, like he knew exactly what she was going to say.

She swallowed hard. “So uh… that… conversation that we had when I almost killed you…y’know, ‘what if Joseph’s right’? ‘What if he’s not crazy’?” she forced out.  “What _then_?”  

John gave her a look that was half sympathetic, half ‘I told you so.’ “That’s the question of the century. Welcome to Hell, Deputy. Population: us, Joseph, and the rest of the Peggies.”

“ _Fuck_.”

“That about sums it up.”

 


	13. Red Sky Morning Without a Warning

John had been decidedly less than helpful, even if it was clear he could tell Nicolette thought she had finally officially lost her goddamn mind.

She had started simple- asking about what ‘the Voice’ had told Joseph about how the world ended. John didn’t provide much outside of ‘holy fire’ and ‘one of the many nations that hate us.’ She had written that off for being vague and unlikely. She wasn’t hearing voices, or a voice, she had just had three haunting, potentially prophetic dreams if any of his ramblings were true. But where did Joseph end and the Voice begin? Were they the same entity, or two separate ones where the Voice was a guide, like so many murderers had claimed about hearing God, the Devil or otherwise.

After the tenth question, John had the nerve to joke about the fact that she had suddenly put so much more weight into Joseph’s claims after a ‘couple of dreams’, and if he had known it would’ve been that easy, he would’ve kept her sedated in the bunker and ‘all his problems would’ve been solved.’ It had earned him a lighter-than-it-should’ve-been punch in the chest, and then she had left the bunker.

The next morning, Jerome had radioed Sharky,  looking for her.

Apparently now that things had ‘calmed down’ a fair bit, Joseph hadn’t sent anybody after Falls End, and John was ‘supposedly’ not targeting it anymore, the townspeople had arranged a cleanup for the damage that hadn’t been repaired from John’s last visit.

She had burst out laughing at first, finding the whole concept that she was going to have to bring John with her to said cleanup which would end up causing all sorts of problems ridiculous. But Jerome had broken out his dad voice, insisted it was probably a lesson for John ‘ _if he so desired to learn it_ ,’ and that had been that.

They had arrived in town, only to find no such cleanup was happening, and there was very little foot traffic around.

John had merely uttered “trap” and gone for their knife.

She reached back and squeezed his wrist before he could get to it. “And if it’s not a trap and we’re early to this damn thing, when they’re all gonna be thinking about the shit you pulled last time, seeing you with a weapon is going to end horribly for all of us.”

“Will Jerome allow justice of that caliber just outside his church?”

She started up towards the church to check in with Jerome, still not having seen him, either. John might have had a point with the whole potential trap idea, so she reached for her pistol as she went.  She glanced back at John. “Considering after what you did inside it, he probably doesn’t even consider it holy ground. Look, if we’re gonna fucking make this work, you need to stop being a dick to everybody-”

“ _Rook!”_

She snapped to attention quickly out of instinct at the tone of the new voice that came from inside church, then promptly froze when she realized _why she had done that on sheer instinct._ Her heart plummeted _._ “No, no, no…”

Sure enough, Earl came marching out of the church- there was something morbidly ironic in the fact that her brain supplied ‘like a bat out of Hell’ as she registered his speed.

When she saw Jerome follow after the other man, Nicolette gaped at him. It _had_ been a trap, but hardly the kind either of them expected.

Earl advanced on her, looking every part as angry as she had ever seen him. “I leave you a matter of _weeks_ and you throw your lot in with John Seed?!” he demanded.

John sighed. “Technically, _I_ threw my lot in with _her_ -”

Earl jabbed a finger in his direction. “This conversation _does not_ involve you. You’re supposed to be _dead._   _Act like it_.”

John, to everyone’s surprise, immediately put his hands up in surrender and took a step back, though his facial expression proved it wasn’t exactly a genuine show of submission.

“It’s a semi-long, complicated story,” Nicolette supplied for a moment.

“Start. Talking,” Earl countered.

She sputtered for a moment, and suddenly all the emotions that were trying to take over hit her like a train and manifested themselves into one- that John would appreciate, no less. It felt a mighty lot like _wrath_ when raging at him was her answer. “Are you _FUCKING KIDDING ME_?!” she yelled. The volume alone was enough to draw whatever eyes weren’t still locked on John to her, and she didn’t even care. She was directly in front of him in an instant, repeatedly slamming the heels of her hands into his chest, with only the tiniest voice in the back of her head reminding her that this was still technically her boss, even if the possession of her actual job was still up in the air.  “You were _FREE TO LEAVE_! You were _SAFE_! I didn’t have to worry about you, I tell you as much in a note, and you fucking _COME BACK HERE_ ?! And you FUCKING _LEAD WITH THAT_ _?!_ ”

Some of the anger faded from Earl’s face, but he still looked fairly angry. “I realized leaving you here alone was the biggest mistake of my _FUCKING LIFE_!” Earl countered.

Nicolette stared at him for a solid while before launching herself into another assault on his chest that ended with a choked sob. She flung herself around him and held to him for dear life.

As angry as he apparently was, Earl immediately went to hold her, and his grip was just as vice-like as hers was after a moment.  He heaved a sigh. “Shhh. Shhh. You’re okay, kid.” He sounded like the sentiment was equal parts directed at her and himself.

“I’m really, _really_ not,” she insisted into his shoulder.

Earl’s eyes flicked to John, then he turned his attention back to her. “You’d know more about that than I would.”

She finally pulled back. “I’m gonna fucking kill Jerome.”

“All me, kid. He had nothing to do with this,” Earl replied.

“Why?” she croaked.

“I already answered,” he continued. He reached up in order to pry her arms off of him, but held onto her arms all the same. He eased her down to have her sit on the steps of the church, and he sat beside her. “I wouldn’t mind you answering that same question, though.”

“It was supposed to be insurance,” she replied quietly. “Kept John alive to ensure you guys got out safe. Then.. _well, you know how talking to Joseph turned out._ I ended up back there with a new plan- his life for getting my brain back,  and then that plan went belly up because apparently Joseph didn’t like John here failing to have me atone so much he closed Eden’s Gates to him, opened fire on both of us, John didn’t like that, and here we are.”

“Tough break,” Earl cut in, directed at John and clearly meaning anything but what he had said.

John merely grimaced and grunted before looking away.

“ _Earl._ Point is, enemy of the enemy is my friend… loosely. And before you say so, yes, I know it could be a trap, still could be, but he’s been with me since then, and… well, there have been plenty of opportunities for him to kill me or take me back to the Peggies. He hasn’t.”

“Yet,” Earl supplied.

She merely hummed in agreement and pointedly avoided looking at John. She inhaled sharply. “You were safe,” she repeated. “You shouldn’t have come back.” Christ. Now she had his life to worry about in this new ‘Joseph might be right about the fucking nuclear apocalypse’ theory. That was pretty damn high on the list of ‘Worst Turn of Events Ever.’

Earl sighed again. “I realized leaving you was stupid. I wasn’t gonna let myself be safe unless I knew you were.”

“I killed Pratt,” she reminded him, more to try and make a point that being around her was the exact opposite of the safest place to be.

“Wasn’t you," Earl replied. 

She flinched, but realized having that particular conversation had already gotten old. “I thought that was abundantly clear when we got me out of that fucking truck, I told you not to come back,” she insisted. “You didn’t call the National Guard, did you?”

“And now I’m here, so tough shit,” the Sheriff countered. “And no. I realized I would’ve sounded batshit insane if I did.”

“How did you even get here?”

“Drove.”

“And no Peggies-”

“No.”

She sighed. “Joseph knows. He has to know.”

“Then let him. The point is you need all the help you can get-”

“I told you I’d be fine," she argued. 

“And I knew you’d be lying. You just admitted it.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a rough few months,” she muttered. “Before and after you made it to safety.”

Earl sighed and covered her hand with his, running his thumb over her knuckles a couple of times.

Her heart clenched when the action brought back the last time she had done just that, and that same mix of grief and rage hit her. Her legs even ached at the mere memory of her seeing the man walking towards that goddamn noose and her bolting around the corner to the next room as quickly as she’d ever run. She had to lean into him to remind herself that she had won, Faith was gone, this was real, Earl was alive and here with her. _Fucking Faith_.

Someone cleared their throat behind them and she had half a mind to give John a dirty look for daring to interrupt when she realized it was Jerome that had done it. He had drifted over to John when they were distracted, probably to still keep a weapon trained on the man just in case.

The Sheriff sighed. “This ain’t a place for this conversation. Jerome, got a place we can go?”

“Take your pick. Every single door is wide open to you both, but the bar’s probably your best bet,” Jerome offered. “Your shadow, on the other hand...”

“Very subtle choice of a word, there,” John deadpanned.

Jerome grumbled under his breath, then clamped a hand on John’s shoulder and squeezed. “ I’ve got a place for you,” he explained, and tried not to look too satisfied when John hissed in pain when he dug in his finger tips a bit. He wordlessly led the man over to the general store, then the other two watched the pair go through the door that led to the apartment above- the one whose only windows had a fifteen foot drop to concrete.

Earl led her into the Spread Eagle and picked the cornermost table.

They had made their entrance subtle enough that even Mary May did a double take once she finally spotted them. She went to approach, but a look from the pair of them stopped her in her tracks and had her circle back to the bar.

They were silent for a while, then spoke at the same time:

“So… got the gist of the ‘where you’ve been’... what’s this plan with John now?”

“Is Joey okay?” she blurted.

Earl looked away, knowing full well he was going to lose the battle of importance there. “She’s fine. Recovering… ‘til further notice. Half my orders, half her own,” he explained. “She would’ve come, but didn’t have it in her. I don’t blame her. I know you don’t, either. She’d be confused as all Hell about you working with the guy that did half the shit she went through-”

“Joseph affected her more,” Nicolette deadpanned. “Is… what did you tell Staci’s family?”

Earl flinched. “Don’t do that to yourself-”

“Earl, _please_.”

He sighed. “Told them he was killed in action. I think they suspect there’s more, but… more about the circumstances of what led up to it than… the event itself.”

She bit her lip, but nodded. “Right.”

Earl hesitated. “You uh… that… song?”

“Fixed it… well, _think_ we fixed it just a couple of days ago. Jury’s still out on that. Kinda hate being here for that exact reason,” she admitted.

“ ‘We’?”

“Dutch’s son, and _yes,_ John-”

Some of the uncertainty faded from the Sheriff’s face. “The Hell were you thinking with that?”

“Technically, it was all him,” she answered. “I keep on calling him my bargaining chip. That was the plan, deal with Joseph, then dump him, dead or alive. Then Joseph tried to kill us both and he got the idea to work together.”

“And you just went with it? After everything?”

“He fucked with me the least out of all of them,” she countered. “I told you, enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“And are you, now? Friends?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Why do I have a feeling that whatever answer I give is going to backfire on me?” she asked. “He’s a vengeful little shit and we need that to actually take Joseph down. That’s good enough for me.”

Earl shrugged after a moment. “Fair enough. Got a lot more to say, but it sounds like you’ve explained it to everyone.”

“I know you do. And I _have_. Just know I’m not as stupid as everyone in this fucking county thinks I am,” she explained. _Just stupid enough to fuck him multiple times._

“Never thought you were stupid. Not once, Rook,” he countered. After a beat, he let out a dry chuckle. “You know, I made a promise that I’d stop calling you that.”

“I kind of missed it,” she admitted.

He reached over and gave her hand another gentle squeeze. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not good to see you. Now I’ve got to go and worry about you surviving this shit _again_ , Old Man.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. When she set him with a disapproving look, he leaned back. “There’s no Faith to mess things up. And as far as I’m concerned, Hudson had it right. You’re the boss now. You tell me to jump, I ask how high.”

“No fighting me on it?”

“No fighting you,” Earl confirmed.

“Good. Change your mind and I’ll kill you myself to spare Joseph the honor.”

Earl merely put his hands up in defense. “You got it, Rook.”

The rest of the conversation shifted to nearly forced small talk about where certain townspeople were since he had left, how certain places fared- everything but the major situation at hand. It was the nicest change of pace she had in a while- enough that the fact that the brand new problem was the thing staring her in the face.

Mary May had sensed most of the tension has dissipated after a while and came over to greet the Sheriff, which led to her own input into the small talk.

Before long, Jerome had come back, explaining that he had barricaded John inside the abandoned apartment above the general store.

The conversation switched back to business then- all mostly centered on updates on ‘The John Situation.’

Nicolette had been surprised when Jerome said the whole thing was growing on him. Just like the situation with the repenter, he had insisted that they were no better than the Peggies if they didn’t give him a chance- ‘turn the other cheek, but be wary the one who struck.’ The same policy she had, just put more eloquently, naturally.

The sun had started to set before long, and the four of them had apparently taken that as a sign to call it a night.

Mary May had offered Earl and Nicolette the guest room and couch in her apartment. After an argument that she lost for once, Earl had taken the couch, and she got the guest room.

She knew it was going to be a sleepless night again, considering she was tossing and turning. She had gained so many unanswered questions about the whole goddamn situation, albeit details about the Collapse, Joseph’s view on John’s exile, survival itself- and now she had to worry about Earl all over again to top it all off.

She knew she needed answers. Or a second fucking opinion. She knew how to get them, even if the given answers were most likely going to be convoluted and insane. She just knew it was as bad as signing a death warrant at least three times over.

What she knew she had to do was going to give her about thirty near death experiences, if not actual death. Then again, she had survived certain death so far- even with the odds of Robert’s work. What was another risk? Hell, if Joseph was right- and as real as everything was, as much as she was starting to believe some of it, him being entirely right was still a stretch, if she was special, if she was meant for so much here, she had some sort of good mojo going for her survival if whatever tampering with the universe she did ended in… well, the world ending.

She glanced at the window across from her. Well, it was now or never, before her common sense got the better of her- if she hadn’t lost it all already. She inhaled sharply, stood up and retrieved her pistol and knife from the table. Earl had almost had a fit when he found out that she let John carry around the latter, and she decided that it was best not to mention he had saved her life at least three times by using it. She found her boots that she had kicked under the coffee table and slipped them on. She made it over to the window and opened it inch by inch slowly. She eased herself out and then pulled the screen closed. She glanced back into the apartment. “I’m sorry.” She turned on her heel and made quick work of easing herself down to the edge of the roof, then dropped down. It was late enough and there was still the fear of Peggies trying to reclaim the town that there was thankfully no one around to see her leave.

It wasn’t until she had left the town lines that she realized that this was by far the dumbest thing she had done since not just fucking walking away from this place like Joseph had suggested the first time.

Well, she had always been a headstrong mess, why change now?

* * *

 

The walk to Joseph’s Compound took most of an hour, and the sun had fully set below the horizon. She had thought returning to the compound twice in the daylight was strange. Coming back during the time the whole fiasco had started was somehow stranger.

After a great deal of crouching and zipping from shadow to shadow, she had made it within the grounds of the compound.

The fact that no one was around was either a blessing or far, far too good to be true. As she sidled over to the church, she strained to listen for anything that would indicate that anyone was inside. It was silent as the grave- a surprisingly unwelcome juxtaposition to the haunting singing that had come from the place the first night. Now it was _too_ quiet and hoped she could hear it. It might’ve even made her steps _feel_ less heavy and loud.

_This is bad. This is bad. This is So. Fucking. Bad._

She made for the entrance and almost tripped over her own feet when she saw both doors were wide open. Definitely too good to be true. She took a minute and took a deep breath. _Now or never. Do it. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t._ **_Dead_ ** _if you do,_ **_dead_ ** _if you don’t._ **_Fuck._ **

She slipped quietly into the church.

Unlike outside, the church hadn’t lost its creepy edge. The black paint spewing all of Joseph’s nonsense was still ominous. She remembered thinking it was blood the first time. When she saw the writing in blood in Jacob’s territory, she had realized she was on the right track, just thinking of the wrong brother.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw Joseph sitting alone in the front pew. He was hunched over, head bowed- praying, or probably talking to the Voice. She didn’t know which- didn’t much care to, either.

 _Trap,_ most of her screamed at herself, but she drifted forward silently. She leveled her gun between his shoulder blades, right above that damned cross. _It would be so easy to end it here and now._ Still, she had people to protect- and John would probably kill her if she robbed him of this particular task, too. It still took all her willpower to take her finger entirely off the trigger and press the barrel of the gun where she was so desperate to put a bullet in order to get his attention.

Joseph made no move of alarm, albeit in reaction or to call for anyone who might have been around. He didn’t even seem surprised at all. He merely looked up at the stained glass window, ever the picture of calm and collected. And then: “You’re late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come find me on Tumblr at sharky-broshaw and join the debate on whether or not this fic counts as a slow burn.


	14. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovingly borrowing the bit about kneecaps from Firefly.

She gawked at the man for a couple of moments til she realized there were really only two options for how he could come to that conclusion. She really needed to stop being surprised about anything the Seeds did anymore. “The Voice tell you I was gonna pay a visit?” she asked. 

Joseph looked up at the painted Peggie cross near the ceiling. “Yes. And you are nothing if not tenacious,” Joseph replied. “It was bound to happen sometime.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as such,” he replied, still not looking at her. “You are still welcome here after everything you’ve done, after all.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, well, excuse me for being a little doubtful on that front, considering the last time I was here I got shot at.”

“It was to drive you away from my people. You’ve done enough harm.”

“I’ve done-” she repeated again, then full on laughed.  “You’re insane. No. _More_ insane than I thought." 

He finally looked at her. “And yet here you are, expecting and receiving a civil conversation,” he countered. He clasped his hands together after a few moments of silence. “You have questions. I will answer them.” He glanced at the spot next to him; a silent invitation- or an order.

She crossed her arms over her chest and made a point of not taking him up on it. “Alright, brand new first question: what gives you the right to kill my people? Hm? What does the Voice tell you that justifies all those murders?”

“That’s not an answer you seek,” Joseph pointed out.

“Fuck yes, it is.”

“I am protecting them. That’s all that matters. It’s a means to an end.”

“They are _human lives._ They’re people, not fucking cattle for your fucking god complex-”

“And I tried to lead them to their salvation.”

She scoffed. “You know what, forget it, I’m not arguing the rub with a madman.”

“Very well. Get on with what you wanted to ask.”

She clenched her jaw. The fact that this was the dumbest thing she could’ve done came back into her brain. He was going to be cryptic and vague intentionally. He was the “lead my horses to water but can’t make them drink” type- even if his particular style ended with “unless it benefits me.” She just wished she wasn’t so curious and left in the dark about everything. “How does… _it_ happen?”

Joseph looked at her again, then rose to his feet. When she stepped back out of instinct, he offered his usual barely-there smile.

She tried to keep the eye contact going. He knew. Just like that, he _fucking knew_ that she was on a new level with the whole situation- if the Voice didn’t tell him she was already. She realized she hadn’t actively tried to look nonplussed, and that was going to bite her in the ass.

Joseph advanced towards the steps and looked towards the window. “I’ve seen the Collapse several times. All different methods- war, disease, famine… all the details are different every time.” He tilted his head. “Except for _you_. You are always there- and at the helm of the destruction most of the time. It always starts like this. You and I at odds. You never seeing the light. You reaping the hate you’ve sewn.”

“I didn’t ask for _this_ ,” she countered. She immediately flinched when she realized her mistake. His words thrown back at him. He was going to enjoy that. 

Of course, he had caught it. His eyes seemed to brighten, evident even behind the sunglasses. He smirked, and she finally saw the resemblance between all three brothers. “ _You were chosen_. Same as me-”

She surged forward so her head was a mere few inches from his. “Not the same. Not _remotely._ I’m not hearing voices- singular or otherwise. I’m not killing people to prove a selfish point.”

Joseph was hardly affected by the lack of distance between them. He continued to look her in the eye. “You cut through my people like they were nothing and have the nerve to judge me for doing the same.”

She wanted to come back with ‘you started it’, but knew it wouldn’t go as well as it did with John. Joseph would label her immature, not just go along with it. She snarled and backed up.

He wandered over to the pulpit and put his hands on the edges, and she wondered if she was going to hear a full on sermon like she had the first time. “You will learn. The dreams came first. You’ve had them- I see it in your face, even as you don’t ask the questions you came here to ask.”

She tried to keep the nonplussed act up, despite the fact that particular statement had started panic up deep in her chest.

Joseph looked away, and again, that slight smile crossed his lips.  “I expected John to be the first to _see_. It’s… _poetic_ that the bringer of the Collapse is the one who shares the gift.”

She flinched. Well, if he knew, or assumed that hard, there was no sense in hiding it. “It’s no gift, pal.” She knew she gave away too much, but at this rate, there was nothing left to lose.

“But the ability to see and adapt and try to save everyone _is_ ,” he protested.

“You and I have two different definitions of ‘save," she argued. 

Joseph shrugged, an action that she found too casual for him. “In method, perhaps. It’s a means to an end. As long as their lives are spared, what does the way they get saved matter?” he countered. “You _saved_ John after everything, did you not?”

“I was sick of the killing you forced me to do, so yes, I saved his life- you know, kept him _alive_. Which is a lot better than I can say for you, apparently. Killing isn't saving." 

Something changed in his eyes. Any trace of a smile or a smirk was gone. He just had that dangerous neutral look. “Make no mistake, I love my brother.”

“Because nothing says ‘I love you’ more than having your people shoot to kill at him," she answered. 

“Did any bullet hit its mark?” Joseph countered. He closed the distance between them and gripped her shoulders. He held strong when she tried to yank herself free. “I am not the monster you think I am, _Nicolette.”_

She scoffed. “Neither am I. And what is it with you two and using my name when you’re trying to make a point you know won’t stick?” she flinched again. That was another thing she had just thrown out there haphazardly that _he could use against her_. She had just heavily implied that she and John had at least one heavy, potentially civil conversation, and that they were on good enough terms to do so. Fuck, Joseph was like some sort of predator that hypnotized their prey before killing it. He gave people that same look for long enough and they’d just give away anything.Why wasn’t _he_ the inquisitor _?_

Joseph looked away. “I’m pleased you two found common ground. He needed someone.”

She opened her mouth, at a loss for that particular derailment. It was a trap, she knew, but to her surprise something that felt an awful lot like overprotectiveness for John curled in her gut- another first that she would’ve never expected a couple of months ago. He had been through so much shit, he didn’t deserve to be abandoned by one of the last people who gave a shit- who she hadn’t killed.  “He _had you_.”

Joseph was silent for a while. “My company was starting to cause more harm than good,” he admitted.

“So you just broke the most important promise you ever made to him?” she asked. "Do you know what that could do to a person? He only had you left." 

“Everything happens for a reason. Even that.”

The guarded tone he adopted for his answer unnerved her until she recalled it was probably all just some game to him. He _wanted_ to unnerve her- make her question _everything_ now that she was just questioning _some of it._ He could lie, feed her all she thought she needed to hear and watch her try to process it and come up with the wrong conclusions.  It took her a minute to remember the voicemail he had left at the ranch. He had signed off insisting that he loved John. But whether or not John got shot, it was risky to shoot at loved ones if you _wanted them to survive_. Joseph was an expert liar, after all. She remembered back a while when Sharky had thought John was dead, he had gone on a tangent about how Joseph might’ve wanted John dead to further his plans. The entire thing was a clusterfuck of hypotheticals, and having the king of liars insisting on one theory did nothing to solve that problem. With Joseph, anything was possible. John was his baby brother. Why the Hell was he so cavalier about betraying him? After everything, how could he give him up like that? “You let him stay with Wrath? The sin that was going to slay him?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from the last question. “You know his wrath is targeted at you, don’t you? How’s that gonna work out for you?”

“I let him go with _Pride_ ,” he corrected. He dug his fingers into her shoulders a bit, but didn’t elaborate.

 _Fucking game player._ “This was a mistake. I’m done. I’ll be back to put a fucking bullet between your eyes, apocalypse or not,” She turned and prepared to yank herself free of his grip, and he dug into her arms again- painfully this time. She turned back and set her jaw. “ _What_?”

He looked her up and down for a moment, then his eyes flicked back to hers.

She desperately wanted to look away out of spite, but just like every time he tried to look her in the eye, her eyes were firmly locked in place. He was most definitely a special sort of fucking predator. Hell, she didn’t even believe in the shit and she was starting to wonder if he was some sort of demon, there to destroy the world and let her take the fall.

“Does John know you carry his son inside you?”

She was so lost in the predator angle that she almost missed what he had said- but that was one Hell of a thing to miss. Her heart skipped a beat, and she even went slack under his hands.

 _What. The. Fuck._  She voiced the sentiment before she could stop herself.

He looked away. “I’ve seen a child. Your eyes, John’s smile. You may start the Collapse, but he will help bring the world back. He will be a guide to all those who are lost.”

When his hands finally slipped from her shoulders, she stumbled back. “You’re insane,” she repeated, even as she tried to do the math in her head. _No, this is a fucking con, just like everything out of his mouth was. God, don’t look at him-_

“Have I been wrong yet?” Joseph countered.

“First time for everything,” she answered. She turned away when there was the distant sound of people talking- most likely a Peggie patrol. She glanced back at him- whatever emotion had been there moments ago was gone. She backed up and headed for the door.

“Take care of him, Nicolette. Whatever happens to the world, however long you have.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “Fuck you, Joseph.” She made it to the entrance of the church, took one final step back and bolted. The patrol had been apparently close enough to see her leave and shouted for backup.

For the third time she found herself getting chased from the compound, but at least they weren’t shooting this time.

She was finally starting to appreciate the little things.

Of course, now there was an entirely new _‘little thing_ ’ that was on the board as a possibility. Joseph had a point. She didn’t want to admit it, but Joseph had a point about being right so far. But how had he even known? What if he was right? How the fuck was she going to manage _that_ and try to save the county?

The whole thing just kept on getting weirder and weirder. Still, there were two ways to fact check. It was just going to be a nuisance.

There was going to be a day where she didn’t utter “fuck” at least twenty times. That day clearly wasn’t one of them.

* * *

The plan when she got back to Fall’s End was supposed to be simple. Get to the Spread Eagle, back into the apartment, then bolt back to the guest room as quickly and quietly as possible. In hindsight, she really should’ve remembered that only about one in ten of her places succeeded without a hitch.

Earl, Mary May, Jerome and John were all in the middle of the town, arguing away, if the raised voices were any indication.

“-had something to do with it when I was locked into the building across the street and it took you minutes to free me to accuse me in the first place?! You two were in the same apartment!” John was the loudest of the bunch, unsurprisingly. 

“I didn’t say that, you son of a bitch, I asked if you saw anything!”

She had clearly missed the brunt of it. Mary May looked frantic, and Jerome looked ready to jump in between the other two if come need be.

“Well why don’t we stop arguing about it and get out there and look for her!” John continued, hands waving wildly as he rolled the ‘L.’

Earl opened his mouth to shout again, and then the fact that the pair of them were suddenly on the same page seemed to occur to him. “Well alright!”

“Fine!” John nodded. 

The pair turned to their rights, accidentally bumping shoulders in the process. They stopped to shoot each other warning looks before they looked back down the road- and coincidentally right at her.

She waved weakly. “Hi.”

“Where the Hell were you?!” Earl demanded.

“Out?” she suggested. The word came out far more guilty than intended. 

“Don’t you dare give me that teenage _bullshit_ -” Earl began, then stopped short when John scoffed. “Problem, Seed?”

John clenched his jaw, and she knew that he nearl immediately figured it out. She sent him a pleading look, and he turned to the Sheriff. “She went to see Joseph. For the answers I couldn’t give,” he pointed out. 

Earl blinked at him, then turned back to her. “You _what_?”

She was about to object that he believed John so quickly until she remembered he of all people would know that it was just her kind of impulsive behavior to do so.

John advanced on her. “I didn’t keep my mouth shut to make your life more complicated, Deputy. I kept my mouth shut because I don’t know all the answers, I don’t understand all of them, and I don’t intend to. And neither should you."

Earl looked between the pair of them for a few moments, then stepped between them. “The Hell are you two talking about?”

John opened his mouth, and she put her hand out to stop him.

She immediately let it drop when Earl stared at her hand an extra moment too long. “Do you remember those Bliss dreams?” she asked after a moment. “The ones where _she_ took you and I through that field?”

Earl nodded. “Wish I could forget them.”

She offered a sympathetic nod. “There were… more. Joseph showed me a lot- showed me the Collapse. I thought I was drugged out to all Hell, but… I keep having them, and they’re just so real, and… I’m starting to wonder if he’s not as crazy as we thought.”

“They were dreams, kid. Hallucinations,” Earl tried to reassure her.

“They got to Burke's head enough,” she said quietly. She blinked rapidly to try and rid her vision of the ghost of the particular memory of Burke shooting Virgil and then himself.  “It’s… not that much of a stretch.”

Earl turned back to John. “The Hell kind of ideas are you putting in her head?!”

John scoffed. “Her seeing things Joseph's way isn’t on the top of my priorities list anymore, Sheriff. That tends to happen when the one preaching it tries to kill you.”

Earl looked him up and down again. When John broke eye contact first and seemed to find a crack in the pavement under him more interesting than anything going on, he turned his attention back to Nicolette. “... How much did I miss when I was gone?”

“ _A lot._ ”

“Did Joseph give you your answers?” John asked bitterly after a moment.

Nicolette paused. There was no sense in making things worse. _Too many_. “No. He wasn’t there. Made it there too late. Thought he was the kind of guy who would stick around waiting for anybody in his flock to come by at oh-dark-thirty.”  There. It wasn’t an outright lie. He had given her two or three- more like two and a half, and she was fairly sure they weren’t actually the answers she had wanted. She still wasn’t sure. That was the effect Joseph had. And there was the whole John’s son inside her thing that he had used to derail her. She knew she probably looked miles away at that particular thought, so she snapped back to attention.

John stared at her, then scoffed. “I’m going back to sleep,” he announced. “Try not to find anything else to blame on me, hm?” he looked at Jerome. “No need for the bookcase again, Jerome. I’ll stay put. You looked like you were struggling with it, anyway.” He turned on his heel and walked back towards the general store.

Jerome grumbled under his breath and raised his gun a bit.

Nicolette pushed it down. “Easy. Your flock’s recovering. You can remember what the Bible said about killing now.”

“Killing, yes. And it hasn't stopped me. But it is fuzzier on the subject of kneecaps all the same.”

Mary May finally laughed- the only sound she had made since the whole ordeal. She hit Jerome’s shoulder lightly. When Jerome walked to the general store to ensure John was true to her word, she turned to the other two. “Come on. Time for a nightcap. And for me to order new locks for my windows so we can prevent everyone’s favorite deputy from going rogue on us.”

“I’ll split the bill for 'em with you,” Earl agreed.

“Fuck you guys,” Nicolette countered before heading into the Spread Eagle.

* * *

The next morning, Mary May and Earl had decidedly not delivered on their threat. They did, however, help follow through with making Jerome’s trap from the previous day a reality. They had carted John off bright and early to help repair the church. It left her with free reign of the town for a while. Which, of course, led her to the damned pharmacy section of the general store. There was something morbidly hilarious that the place had been abandoned and ransacked, but the couple of rows of pregnancy tests went just about untouched.

She still couldn’t believe she was doing this- humoring the bastard liar, but it wasn’t like she had been regular with all of the Seed-induced stress, and now there was- well, that was another Seed joke she wasn’t going to finish. Point was it had been over a month now since they had jumped each other’s bones; she wouldn’t have been sure about the possibility of this outcome and would’ve gotten worried before long, with or without Joseph’s suggestion. And she had puked a lot when she was trying to get the conditioning undone and she usually had a strong stomach. “Fuck you, Joseph,” she repeated to herself all the same before she picked one up, shoved it in her jacket, and left. A cop shoplifting- well, looting, she supposed. Still, she had done far too much for the fucking town to not at least be entitled a bit.

Christ, she was hitting every rung as she fell down the morality ladder.

She ducked out and turned the corner, headed for one of the other abandoned houses a couple of hundred feet down the road. There was no way she was doing this near any of her friends.

Another few minutes later she was practically pacing a hole in the bathroom floor. It hadn’t been the first time she had a pregnancy scare, but it sure as Hell was a lot more relevant than the Bobby Maynard fiasco back in her sophomore year of college. Bobby was a fucking idiot. He wasn’t a cult leader’s brother. He wasn’t the relative of a self-proclaimed Prophet who talked about the end of the world- that she was going to bring. She and Bobby wouldn’t have had a fucking _Apocalypse baby_ . Would that have made the kid the Anti-Christ? No, she was the Anti-Christ in this scenario- or she was pretty sure she was. She shook her head. She needed to stop overthinking this entire goddamn thing. Joseph was a liar. He was probably just trying to throw her off when he said _that._  It was easy payback for all she had done to him. He had probably sensed something had happened, just like everybody else in the fucking county.

She poked her head out to check the clock on the wall. It was time. She paced another couple of minutes for good measure and went back into the bathroom. She held her breath, leaned over, and-

One very clear, very solid plus sign was there to meet her.

She let out a weak cough and promptly sat down. If Kim’s doctor was still around she was definitely going to double check, but the evidence was already there, staring her in the face. She was wrong. Joseph was right. She was pregnant. With John Seed’s kid. And the entire situation got a whole new level of complicated. And dangerous. And her friends were going to kill her. Probably literally. The universe really did hate her.

“... _Fuck_.”


	15. A Knife to a Gunfight

Nicolette stared down at the corner table she had parked herself at at the Spread Eagle a couple of hours prior. Her life- and brain for that matter- had been at an absolute standstill since the particular reveal of the previous day. She had planned on going to Kim about her doctor, but that would also require her to come up with a fake reason to go to him, and Kim would see right through any of her lies, just like every other time she did. And she couldn’t just go to the clinic without anybody finding out or being nosy. And really, after everything she knew about the Seeds and children, the last thing she wanted was rumors to fly. Even if the Seed who literally killed his child was apparently all gung-ho about this one. But who knew how long that would last. He had changed his mind on whether or not to kill her so many times, she didn’t have high hopes he’d keep his current opinion.

She had radioed Addie an hour before just to get her there and have someone to confide in about the whole thing. Sure, it was a risk in the rumor spreading department, but she trusted Addie more than at least half the county, and she’d most likely keep her mouth shut if asked. And she just desperately needed _a mother_ right now.

The doors to the bar swung open, and Addie came through.

Nicolette practically leapt out of her seat- only to nearly trip over it when she saw Sharky come in behind her. She gave Addie a frantic look.

Addie shook her head and mouthed ‘sorry, couldn’t shake him’ before she and Sharky sat down next to her.

She gawked at the older woman for a second. She mumbled a greeting at them, then tried to settle in when they did, only to practically shake with with nervous energy. She needed someone to know. Having a secret that only Joseph Fucking Seed knew was agony. “Hey, Shark, can you go get us a few drinks and an order of wings?”

“Uh, sure, whatcha want?”

“Get me an Old Fashioned, and uh… Addie, what’re you up for?” She had no intention of drinking the damned thing, but now if she had to keep up appearances, so be it. 

Addie gave her a pointed look, and she returned a pleading one.

Addie sighed. “Moscow mule.”

Sharky did a messy salute before heading for the bar.

Addie immediately turned to her and grabbed her hands. “Honey, the fuck is this about, I can feel your anxiety from-”

“I’m pregnant,” Nicolette forced out. “Or, ya know, pretty sure. One test doesn’t really confirm anything, but…”

“Oh,” Addie raised her eyebrows, but her face evened out a moment later. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” she hissed.

“What’re you gonna do?”

“I have no idea. It’s not like I’ve got dozens of options considering half or more of the people who could help with that are dead, and most likely because of the father, no less.”

“You’ve got a point.”

“And then there’s the whole thing where I’m the county’s biggest fucking defense against a fucking psychopath and I can’t really do that job toting around a fucking baby inside me. Or raise it in an environment where everyone thinks the Apocalypse is around the corner- which, by the way, I’m starting to believe, to top all this shit off,” she giggled sarcastically, far too giddily, but she supposed that’s what happened when trying to fight off a breakdown. She knew she’d be lucky if she didn’t crack and start sobbing by the end of the rant she knew she couldn’t stop. “God, it was basically a one night stand. Who the fuck gets pregnant from a one night stand?!” she demanded. When Addie paused, looked away and went to open her mouth, she suddenly had a feeling about just how Hurk Jr. came into being, so she tried to backtrack. “Why the fuck did I let him fuck me, this is a mess-“

Addie squeezed her hands. “Nikki, you’ll do fine. If it’s anybody who can make that work, it’s you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s _everything else_!” she snapped, slamming her hands down on the table. “I fucked that mess of a human being. The _other_ fucking psychopath. I didn’t even think about this possibility because I was stupid and selfish and wanted it for some reason. And now here I am, knocked up by the brother of the fucking Prophet talking about the Collapse, _which I’m starting to believe,_ I mean move over, Damien or whatever the fuck the Antichrist’s name was. This _thing_ might as well be a fucking Apocalypse baby if any of this is true. We can call it ‘Cal’ for short!” the motioned at her stomach. The last bit was perhaps her biggest ‘humor to cope’ moment yet, and it took her a moment to realize she had _shouted the last ten seconds_ \- just as the song on the radio had ended. Thankfully not the John part, but everything directly after _._ The cat was half out of the bag just because of her own carelessness. _And every single person in the bar turned to look at her._ Mary May wasn’t among them, thankfully, but the guy who looked like Staci who always hung out by the fishing record wall was, which made it even worse.

She immediately slammed her mouth shut and went red. She ducked her head to cover it up.

“Who’s the father?” Addie asked, too loudly, to throw everyone else off. A moment later the next song started off, and she tried not to look too relieved.

Despite her panic, Nicolette had never loved her more. She opened her mouth to give any name she could think of, even a fake one- and then forgot every single man she’d come across’ name and couldn’t even string two together to bullshit one.

There was a strangled noise behind them, then: “Uh... s’mine! I am!”

She froze at that- until she recalled that John was still half a town away and that voice had been at least an octave deeper, rougher, and distinctly more southern. _And belonged to her best friend_. And was probably the _least equipped man in the county to be a father_. She turned around to face him.

Sharky gave her a look that was equal parts “someone’s got to” and “I’ve made a huge mistake.” He glanced around when everyone turned to look at him instead. He gaped like a fish out of water for a while, and then: “Uh… yeah, there was… that one night, little too much booze… shit happened,” he said, equally as loudly as Addie’s staged question had been.

It was her turn to let out a little strangled noise that was just short of a whimper, but it ended in a choked off laugh.

The crowd either blinked at them a couple of times or immediately went to have a hushed conversation with whoever they were with. There were a couple of muttered “congratulations.”

They all either didn’t believe a word of it or were too stunned to provide anything more than that.

Sharky drifted back over to them.

Nicolette blinked at him. “Sharky, what...?”

Sharky shrugged and leaned close so he could talk quieter. “Well, ya just dropped that bomb on the entire town, and from what I understand about baby makin’ and the _timing_ , the only option you got as far as the answer to Aunt Addie’s question is… well, _you know._ Way I saw it, you just had two options: They find out the real one and they never trust you again, or they’re appalled at your taste because they don’t know what they’re missing...” he waved his hand from head to toe at himself, “Can’t have the first one because that would fuck up all your hard work, an’ you and I have been spotted together enough, so...” he shrugged. “Can add ‘fake dad’ to my list of many talents, I guess,” he went to set the Old Fashioned in front of her, then gave her an accusatory look and downed the drink himself. “Can’t have you boozin’ it up, either.”

"I wasn't gonna-" Nicolette went to protest, then realized she had no right to give him a hard time about anything when he had just done her the biggest favor anyone had ever done for her.  She stared at him for a solid few seconds. 

Sharky made a face. “What?”

She launched herself at him, giving him the tightest hug she could muster. “You’re gonna make the right girl very, very happy someday.”

“Just gotta find ‘er first,” Sharky nodded. He went to smile, but stopped immediately and he got the same deer in the headlights look he got when he had volunteered himself into the ruse. “Hold up. If I just said I knocked you up, do I have to marry you now?” he went wide-eyed. “N-not that there’s anything wrong with that! There’s not! Not at all! Like, you’re a catch, Dep, but I-”

She grabbed his face. “Shark, _Shark_ , hon, breathe. No, you don’t. You’re adorable and that’s super noble of you, but breathe. I’m not gonna steal you from your precious bachelor ranks over a goddamn lie. You essentially just took a bullet for me, that’s all I’m gonna ask for, and I didn’t even ask..”

“Oh, thank _fuck_.”

She laughed and smacked his cheek lightly. “You really are the best, you know that? Thank you for helping me unfuck my life time and time again.”

Sharky beamed at her, then some of the panic in his eyes dissipated. He looked like he had a thought, then went wide-eyed again. “Hey, you think babies work like puppies once you have it? Think I’ll be a chick magnet if I carry it around town?”

She scoffed again, but leaned into him. “Idiot.”

“ _Your_ idiot,” Sharky corrected.

“Absolutely.”

Addie laughed with them, then sighed. She leaned over so she could whisper closer to them. “So, what’re you gonna tell _him_?”

“I’m not gonna tell _him_ anything,” she answered.

Addie sighed. “Honey, it took Hurk Senior ‘til the fifth month to figure out we had a bun in the oven. John ain’t nearly that stupid. You might just wanna come out with it. Ain’t like he’s under the impression you’re getting laid by anyone else, anyhow.”

“It’s… complicated. I just… that whole family is a trainwreck when it comes to kids and childhoods. I… don’t exactly have high hopes.”

“Like…?”

“The fact that they got tossed around from home to home because their blood parents were shit and John in particular got the crook end of the deal because his adopted parents were _worse_ . He’s the way he is because of the last set. And Joseph killed his infant daughter because the _Voice told him to_.”

“... Shit. Didn’t hear about that.”

“Pretty sure he’d want to keep that particular story under wraps. Wouldn’t want to be seen as a monster to the people he might have a chance of swaying,” she sighed.

“Does John hear the Voice?”

“No, or not yet. I don’t think he believes in what Joseph says entirely.”

“Well, there’s that,” Addie pointed out hopefully.

“Still a mess. I can’t catch a fucking break.”  

Addie hummed in agreement. She took her hand. “You need anything, hon, you let me know.”

“A time machine would be nice.”

“Oh, like you two wouldn’t find an opportunity to fuck, no matter what _or_ when.”

“Not helping.”

Addie gave her an apologetic look before she looked over her shoulder at the entryway door. “Heads up, subject change.”

Sure enough, John and Jerome had just walked in. The bar went silent again.

The pastor gave John a nudge towards their table, and John went. The fact that Jerome dug his fingers into John’s shoulder at the last second wasn’t lost on any of them.

John dropped wordlessly into the chair beside Nicolette.

Nicolette frowned at him when their knees bumped, then gave him a warning look when he he followed through by pulling back and putting his feet up on the unoccupied space in her chair, crossing his legs at the ankle. “Can you not? Last thing we need is us to look chummy here.”

“We’re way past chummy, they probably know that by now, and if they don’t they need to see _trust_ here if we have a chance in Hell of this working,” John replied, matter of factly. He tilted his head. “And can you not go after my brother when we agreed we’d do it together?”

She looked at the others, who were doing their damnedest to not look at them. She set him with a hard look. “You really wanna do this now?”

John shrugged. “Now’s as good of a time as any.”

Addie and Sharky exchanged looks. Addie went to stand. “We’ll leave you two relatively alone-”

“Stay!” the other two barked.

Sharky and Addie both put their hands up and stayed where they were.

Nicolette turned back to John. “We never actually agreed.”

“It was implied,” he insisted, not missing a beat.

“No, it wasn’t. And are you seriously putting that much weight on a deal you made seconds after trying to strangle me?!”

“Considering that was commonplace for us for a while, it was business as usual, so yes." 

She scoffed. “Go fu-“

The sound of automatic fire cut off what she was going to say. The windows caved in after another spray and they all dove for cover.

The place went up in pandemonium immediately, with people scrambling for cover or weapons.

“GIVE US JOHN!” someone called from outside.

Sharky risked a peek over the windowsill, and a bullet missed the top of his head by a grand total of two inches. He threw himself back down. “Peggies,” he reported.

John looked at Nicolette incredulously. “What did you and Joseph do, arrange my surrender?!”

“Wha- of course not!” she blurted, then froze. She had told them he hadn't seen Joseph at the Compound, and she had just blown that. She tried not to look frantic, but John's answering frown told her she had already failed. 

"You're such a shit liar," he hissed. "Then what the fuck is this if you two didn't plan this?!” John hissed.

“Commonplace from how we were!” she snapped back and kicked out at his legs for a moment.

They all ducked when another spray of gunfire went off by the windows.

There was a thump from beside them and they all jumped until they realized Jerome had crossed the room to get over to them.

John turned to him. “Knife,” he held his hand out.

Jerome merely frowned at him.

Even Sharky looked between them and scoffed. “Of course you’re the guy who thinks he’s slick enough to bring a knife to a gunfight.”

“You haven’t seen him with a knife in a gunfight,” Nicolette pointed out bitterly. She rolled her eyes at John’s answering shit-eating grin and the pointed look he gave Jerome. “Just do it.”

Jerome looked between them and sighed, handing him back their knife. He gripped the man by the wrist. “Do not make me regret this.”

“Well, you’re still all about redemption and second chances-” the sound of a third round of gunfire cut him off “- consider this making up for me taking over your town.” He ducked when there was a shotgun blast directly behind him that cleared his head by about a foot.

The others turned around to see Mary May holding the shotgun- aimed outside, but the trajectory wasn’t an accident, either. “Then _start_ making up for it,” she hissed.

John looked lost in thought for a moment before he turned to Nicolette. “Got your magnum?”

“Yeah…?” she blinked at him, then at the gun at her hip.

“Good,” John nodded. “ _Trust me_.” He got up into a crouch and scooted closer to the window, apparently waiting for the next round of fire to pass.

“John, what the fuck?” she hissed.

He grinned that same dangerous, up-to-no-good-and-thinking-of-violence grin she’d seen on him too many times, surged forward to give her a hard, momentary kiss, and then he was gone.

She gaped at the empty space he had occupied for a second. She glanced at the others- Sharky was trying not to look at her, Addie had stopped to give her a knowing grin even as more gunfire started up, and Jerome had thankfully been distracted trying to return to the other side of the bar to cover Mary May since she had course corrected to the left to provide defense there.

“Where the Hell have you been?!” John suddenly roared from outside. “How hard is it to track me down?! The Deputy barely leaves this fucking town, and it takes you _weeks_?! Was retaking this place THAT HARD?!” he roared.

“Son of a bitch,” Mary May hissed.

Nicolette turned to her. “Shh!”

“You just heard him-”

“I can’t hear shit, but whatever he’s doing, they’re not shooting anymore,” Nicolette pointed out.

There was the sound of something scraping along the concrete for a moment, then John spoke again. “Get off me. That’s what a month of torture does to you when your own people don’t come to your rescue! Do you really think I’d lower myself to work with these sinners?!” John hissed.

There were murmurs of variations of ‘of course not’ and ‘that’s why we came’ in response.

“Now GET IN THERE AND _KILL THEM!_ ” John barked.

Mary May shot her a look, ducking as another round of gunfire passed over their heads. “Wanna tell me to wait now?!”

Nicolette opened her mouth, then firmly shut it. That last bit had sounded a lot like Old John. She grimaced upon realizing she had even thought of him like that. And here he was, sounding like he had during the first few encounters, and she let doubt seep in more than she had seconds ago. And really, now that she had his kid inside her, he’d stab them all in the back. More importantly, how had the Peggies found them so simply? And if everyone knew about John’s last broadcast, why the Hell were they buying this? Had there been leftover loyalists who just assumed he’d do no wrong in that cause? They all looked at him like the Second Goddamn Coming, so that probably wasn’t far off. Idiots. What was going on?

The door burst open again and three Peggies piled in, shooting the place up immediately, looking absolutely frantic.

The others went to work dispatching them.

Mary May put a bullet in one of the men's chest and two patrons took out the other two. “Go check the rest of the town!”

The others did just that.

Nicolette had just finished shooting one of the Peggies that had gone for cover in the garage when there was suddenly an arm across her collarbone and what felt like a knife- _her_ knife- at her back.

“And here she is, the lady of the year. Always a thorn in our side. Always under the false pretense of wanting to help people. But how many people have you really helped, hm? How many have you ended up killing instead? How many are worse off?” John asked from behind her.

She still had no idea what the fuck was going on, or what he was getting at, but even now, even after ‘trust me’, it still sounded like he had entirely regressed. She hissed when he grabbed her by the back of the neck and squeezed.

“Third time tends to be the charm for these sorts of things. Let’s get your third attempt at Atonement going. Then let’s see Joseph challenge my place.”  He looked at the other four Peggies who had started to come in from the residential end of town. “Forget killing them. I’ve got a better idea.” He dragged her over towards the front of the Spread Eagle. “You hear that?! You want the Deputy back alive, you come willingly to the church. We’re gonna try this Sinner’s atonement again.”

Doubt rediscovered itself in the pit of her stomach. Old John would do that- if there was a difference. Had ‘trust me’ been a trap? She had a feeling it was the latter. “Son of a bitch.”

John scoffed and pulled the knife back, slipped it back into his pocket and ran his freed hand up and down her throat, a bastardization of the show he had put on with Hudson during his first broadcast to her. “Sorry, dear.”

After a few seconds, Sharky, Addie, Mary May and Jerome and a few of the other patrons all came out, flanked by four Peggies.

John looked over the entire crowd. “Good. Let’s get going.”

The walk over to the church was absolutely silent. No one dared speak, they just passed glares back and forth. Even the Peggies around who had been delighted that 'their John' was back and had stayed out to keep lookout were silent aside from their murmuring to each other. 

John led them into the front of the church, just as he had been positioned the first time. “And here we are again. I almost miss Nick. It would’ve been a nice reunion…” he mused as the Peggies crowded the others to stand directly behind him and Nicolette.

John retrieved their knife from his pocket. “Usually this is where I’d give the speech, but… I’m not really in the mood for that now. I’m sure none of you are either. So let’s just get on with it, shall we?” he turned his attention to Jerome. He motioned at him to come forward, and the Peggie nearest him shoved him towards John. John clapped him on the shoulders.  “The imposter with a religion that lies to its people with all of its hypocrisies…” he laughed that same crazed laugh he did in the church the last time, no less. “Such a double standard with that faith of yours…” he tsked. “I’m sure you remember the last time we went through this. So I’m going to make you do it again. And maybe this time you’ll learn the real faith you should give into, and not some false prophet.”

Jerome merely frowned at him. “You’re gonna burn in Hell for this.”

“At least I’ll have company,” John replied before he shoved Jerome towards the shelf littered with copies of Joseph’s word that Jerome had mentioned getting ready to burn a while back.  He crowded the other man until Jerome handed one over, glaring all the while. John looked thoughtful for a moment. “I clearly can’t trust you to give the words, but why don’t you follow along? Get to know what you should really be preaching...” John shoved a second book at him.

There were a few dark chuckles from the Peggies behind them.

John turned back to her with a flourish, then swung his hand out to grab her by the arm and yank her forward so there was barely a foot between them. “Now, Deputy, I hope you don’t mind if we speed up the process. We are nearly done if we consider all of my attempts at getting you to see the light.” He lifted the book to chest level. He motioned at one of the Peggies to come over. “We need a witness. Hand on the Book, you know the drill.”

She glowered at him and did so- and then stopped short when she realized the book felt like it was more _wooden_ than paper and leather. And then it hit her. It was the _gun safe_. Her eyes flicked back to John’s face for a moment, unsure if John was about to be taken by the same con a second time. The bastard  had the nerve to offer a knowing smirk and a wink. And then everything else slipped into place. He was a talker, but hardly ever repeated himself- and had used some word for 'double' at least four times when he had spoken to Jerome the first time just now. Come to think about it, his entire speech he had done at Jerome was trying to remind him about the exact details in his part in the Atonement. _Fucking  genius, trickerous bastard._  Still, now she had a part to play again. “ _No_.” She went to smack the book out of his hands, then caught it at the last second, and the cover swung open to reveal her Magnum. She hadn’t even feel him lift it off her at any time.

Just like the last time, chaos erupted, because the Peggie doing the witnessing was the first to see that it had in fact been a setup against them. He had gone to shout a warning, only for John to dive at him and embed the knife in his throat, just as she turned to shoot the Peggie closest to the others.

Mary May, Sharky and Addie all looked around, dazed for a moment at the turn of events before joining the fight as much as they could. 

There was the sound of something wooden hitting the floor, and Nicolette turned to see that Jerome suddenly had his own gun, and the book John had shoved at him was open- it was another gunsafe.

A few of the remaining Peggies had finally mentally caught up with the situation, shouted ‘traitor’ at John and run for him in particular.

“There are five outside!” John called.

“On it!” Addie and Sharky replied, having been left alone after the Peggies holding them had charged. Mary May followed them after a moment.

That left four in the church, having killed half of them. A matter of seconds later, Jerome had taken one out, Nicolette had taken another, and John had killed the third. The last scrambled for the exit.

Nicolette lined up a shot at him, but John stopped her. “Let him run. Let him go back to Joseph.”

She made a face at him. “Are you serious?”

“That was either a test for me or he just sent them all to kill us. That’s the messenger who can tell Joseph just where I stand now.” He marched out of the church, motioning at Addie, Sharky and Mary May not to take out the runner.

The dust- proverbial and literal- cleared after a few moments of dead silence. They all stared at John for a while. The mere sight of him covered in Peggie blood with the Yes sign looming on the horizon behind them after the stunt he had pulled was just a little too much for everyone.

John looked between everybody. “Anybody still have doubts?”

Mary May scowled at him. “Yeah, several,” she marched over to him and without breaking her stride, punched him in the face so hard the man stumbled back a couple of feet. “That's for Jerome, the church, Nic, _and_ the bar!” she snapped before she went back into the Spread Eagle. 

John watched her go, cradling his jaw. “Anybody else?”

“We still have plenty of doubts. This wasn’t enough,” Jerome cut in. “But it’s a start.”

“Thanks for being smarter than I gave you credit for in there,” John answered.

“You would’ve gotten us killed if there were any intelligent people in that group who could pick up context clues,” Jerome shot back. “You’re helping us with those repairs, too.”

John put his hands up. “I helped before, didn’t I?”

“Barely,” Jerome replied. He turned and made his way back to the church.

John looked to Nicolette for support.

She gawked at him doing so, then shook her head. “You had me fooled for a solid few minutes there,” she admitted. She turned on her heel and headed for the bar.

After a few seconds, Addie spoke up from behind her. “Nu-uh. You wanna go after the _women_ , John. There’s a bigger chance of you getting murdered if you _don’t_ fix your fuck-up with _them_ first.”

Nicolette rolled her eyes at the sentiment then made it into the bar. She waved Mary May down. “I’ll be down in a minute, just gotta get this blood off me,” she told her before taking the steps to the apartment up two at a time.  She went inside and headed for the bathroom. She surveyed the damage, grateful that her shirt had taken most of the arterial spray from John’s first victim. She sighed heavily. Now that the excitement was over her thoughts went straight back to panicking about what she had been before the fight. Now with the added detail that John had just slipped right back into his own ways so easily, show or not. He was still lethal, still manipulative- it raised way too many concerns, least of which was that in her experience, temper was hereditary. “Fuck…” she yanked her shirt off and threw it into the tub before she turned the water on and rinsed out the blood that had found its way into her hair.

She heard the door open and straightened out and hurried to the door to close it, only to nearly knock directly into John. She stepped back. “Mary May let you up here?”

“I didn’t ask, and you didn't lock the door," he pointed out. 

She scoffed. “You’re set on scaring the shit out of me today, huh?”

“I had to make it look believable,” John insisted. “I asked you to trust me, and I gave you reason to in the end. It’s not my fault you still don’t after everything I’ve done.”

“What you've done is _exactly why I don’t_ ,” she hissed, jabbing a finger at his chest. When he smirked and let his eyes rake down her body for a moment, she shoved him again. “No, you’re not charming your way out of this one. That’s how we got into half these messes,” she hissed, before she realized she had said too much again. Still, he seemed none the wiser, so there was that. She walked around him and into the living room. She went into her bag in the corner to retrieve a clean shirt, trying not to roll her eyes when John followed nearly directly at her heels.

They both froze when the door opened a second time.

Earl stepped through the doorway, looking towards the other side living room at first. “Rook, I leave town for _an hour_ and the whole places goes to-” he looked towards the other side of the room, where they were, and promptly stopped in his tracks. “Hell…” he finished. He looked between them silently.  

She flinched. If she still believed in God, she would’ve abandoned Him then and there, because that was the biggest case of her not being able to catch a break- well, she supposed second biggest case, after the development of the week. She could only imagine what was going through Earl's head, seeing her dressed down to a bra and jeans in _John Seed_ ’s company, with the pair of them having what probably looked like a normal conversation, her nakedness hardly a factor in whatever it was. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at the fact that it might have been a teenage milestone that had just happened between the three of them. She supposed she should’ve been grateful. It could’ve been Earl instead of Addie that had caught them a while back. Not that this was much better.

Earl seemed to focus on her lack of clothing first and immediately turned on his heel, and she scrambled to get her new shirt on. “ ‘A lot’ doesn’t begin to cover what the Hell I missed, does it?” he finally asked after a while of dead silence.

“Not at all,” she agreed.

Earl huffed. “Nic, can we talk alone for a minute?”

“We were in the middle of a conversation,” John cut in.

“Oh, is _that_ what this was?” the other man asked sarcastically.

“ _Yes_. We were planning on talking about how to take down Joseph, but now you’re the second interruption of the day, so I’d very much like to get on with it," John answered. 

“And you had to start undressing for that talk?” Earl finally risked looking over his shoulder to address John. 

John waved at his own clothing, covered in more blood than hers had been. “She was next to me when this happened. You do the-”

“You just had awful timing,” Nicolette cut in. She was just so tired and everything hurt and this was not helping in the least.

“I’ll bet I did,” the Sheriff countered drily.

She sighed. “Earl, sit down, John, go help Mary May-”

John shook his head. “I don’t think she’ll-”

“ _Make her_ ,” Nicolette hissed before she opened the front door and all but shoved him outside and slammed the door behind him. She turned back to Earl. “So… where do you want me to start?”

“The second I pushed you out of that truck, I guess.”

“Right…” Nicolette nodded. She stopped short when that was enough to make her head spin. And then nothing quite felt right. She wobbled on her feet. Of course the entire day would catch up to her. Over-exhaustion- and most likely pregnancy were a terrible combination. She had taken calls from pregnant women who had passed out from working too damn hard. She had never heard of any cases that damn early though. But she was a special case, wasn’t she? Fucking baby.

“Rook?” Earl asked carefully.

“Help…” she croaked. He was next to her in a second, but she slipped into unconsciousness just as they made contact.

 


	16. Connect the Space Between

When she came to, the first thing she registered was that she was in a place that had far better lighting than most of the places she had been in recently. She sat up carefully and looked around- she was in the Hope County Clinic. Well, wasn’t that fucking convenient, considering her last predicament. She let her eyes adjust for a few seconds. “Hello?” she called.

There was a set of footsteps that echoed around one corner, then a man poked his head around the doorway. It was the doctor- Allan Lee, if she remembered correctly from their brief conversation those weeks ago. “Good afternoon. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit, but considering I’m here, it was probably worse than I thought. How long have I been out?”

“A few hours. The Sheriff dropped you here to make sure everything was okay, but even he said rest was probably all you needed, and by the looks of things…” he motioned at the notes at his desk. “He’s not wrong. But resting…is that even possible for you, Deputy?”

“Probably not.”

“Well, _try,_ ” Allan insisted. “I’ve gone this long without seeing you as _a patient_ , I’d like to keep it that way.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, well, about that…”

Allan arched an eyebrow and waited.

She shook her head. “How binding is doctor/patient privilege when there’s a holy war going on in the immediate area, your patient is the biggest hero in the county and everyone wants to know her business?”

It was his turn to laugh. “Depends on the person nowadays. If you need it as airtight as possible, that’s what it’s gonna be.”

“I need it airtight.”

“Deal. Now, what’s this about?”

“Took a pregnancy test the other day. Came out positive. Wanna make sure, if you’ve still got the blood test stuff handy.”

Allan chuckled. “That’s the only thing I’ve got an abundance of. Not many people are focusing on having babies now.”

“Neither was I,” she replied without thinking.

Allan, thankfully, merely chuckled. “Fair enough. Hold on, let me go get everything.”

Before long, he had gone off, come back with the necessary items, and started to take the blood. She watched the blood go up the tube until she realized glaring it into submission would hardly work. She looked away when Allan patched her up, then disappeared to get the test going fully.

He was gone for a solid couple of minutes when she heard the front door open. She saw her gun laid out in the corner within arms length. Good, Allan was smart. He didn’t take chances when it came to possibly encountering threats. Aside from giving Zip the time of day, apparently.

“Rook? Doc? You here?”

Earl. She sighed and set the gun down, and her body suddenly throbbed, protesting her rest being interrupted. “In here!” the same time Allan called that he was in the other room.

Earl followed her voice into the exam room. He offered a weak smile and sat down next to her on the exam bed when she scooted over for him.

Allan arrived a couple of seconds later. “Hey, Sheriff. Everything okay?”

“Healthwise, fine. The Deputy and I have some business to talk is all. Mind if you give us the room?”

Allan put his hands up. “Say no more. And I’ll say it to you because I know your deputy won’t listen: she needs bedrest, and lots of it. Try to keep her from playing hero for a while, will you?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Earl agreed.

Nicolette waited after Allan left for a few seconds of near unbearable silence, then: “Just come out and say it.”

Earl took her up on it immediately. “ _John_?! You’ve had a history with the wrong sort, but _John_?!”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

“How the fuck did that even start?” Earl hissed. “Why is he alive? Why did you _lie_ to _me_?!”

“I didn’t want to! I told you, it was a backup plan. I just figured after what happened with Faith, with Burke and Virgil... if… if the stupid backup plan got out somehow, if anybody blabbed, whether it was out of their own free will or not, things would go to shit more than they already did, but Joseph would be more willing to negotiate. I didn't- he wasn't- he ruined it all by deciding to stab John in the back.”

“And when the Hell did you two get _cozy_?”

“Couple of weeks into the… arrangement.”

“Earl coughed uncomfortably. “You sleepin’ with him?”

She was about to protest there wasn’t sleeping going on afterward til she remembered that wasn’t true anymore- nor would correcting that single detail make all that much of a difference. She nodded, then steeled herself. Of all people who deserved the whole truth from the start, he was at the top of the list, especially after how defensive he had gotten about the other big secret just then. “Yeah. And before the Universe decides its not done fucking me over and has you find out before I tell you: There's a solid chance I’m pregnant with his kid.”

“ _Shit,_ Rook,” he sighed. “... How solid?”

“I know, I know. And already had one positive test, I’m having the doc run a blood test.”

Earl scratched his ear. “Does John know?”

She had been right on the money. “No. Kinda terrified to tell him, honestly. Which reminds me, I… talked too loudly at the Spread Eagle. There’s a rumor going that the kid is Sharky’s. Go with it if it comes up in conversation.”

“Will do. Kinda wish you let me believe that instead,” Earl deadpanned. “How _the fuck_ did you let it get that far?”

“Adrenaline, mutual life saving, a tight space and a bad decision, and some combination of A,B, or D after that.”

“ _Oh_. Great.”

She nudged his knee with hers. “Look, I’m not gonna say he’s a good person or I trust him, but… he _has_ worked out. He _has_ saved our necks on multiple occasions now.”

“It ain’t him I’m worried about,” Earl countered.

She laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. “You know, I said the exact same thing- but I was more focused on everything else but me.”

“Time to be selfish, kid,” Earl admonished her. “Which is why I called in a favor that’s gonna be a little too fitting now.”

She lifted her head. “What did you do?” she deadpanned.

“Put you under house arrest. The Ryes and _your charge_ will be here within a few minutes.”

“Who the fuck thought that combination would be a good thing?” she hissed. “They’re gonna fucking kill each other before they even get here!”

“Nick said it’s a risk he’s willing to take. He said he’s got a plan.”

She blinked at him. “You guys are hopeless without me.”

“Hey, I didn’t say it was a smart idea. If the bastard gets knocked around and bruised up after everything he’s done to everyone  but especially you, so be it," Earl replied. 

She elbowed him in the ribs, then looked up when she heard gravel grinding under tires outside. She spared a glance at Earl and went for her gun again, and he went for his. Earl hopped off the table before she even had the chance. “It’s them. It’s all good.”  He walked back to the bed and offered her his hand to help her down.

She groaned. “Really?”

“You’re sure as Hell not gonna take it easy willingly, so you’re damn sure I’m gonna make you take it easy any chance I get.”

“Yeah, well, tone down the Overprotective Dad, will ya? I don’t think Nick or Kim know, rumor or not, and if they pick up on anything with John there…”

“Fair point,” Earl agreed.

They said their goodbyes to Allan, with the latter promising to check in via radio later.

They left the Clinic and went to the truck waiting for them.

Nick and Kim waved from their spots in the front seats, and John merely lifted his head enough to see them from his own spot in the truck bed.The latter was covered in dirt and dust head to toe- too much to have it done by sheer coincidence. He was zip-tied to one of the hooks on the edge of the bed to boot.

Nick and Kim got out and immediately enveloped her in a hug.

“Nic, I asked you to keep in touch. I asked _one thing of ya,_ and you can’t do that?”

“We were busy,” she offered.

“I’ll fucking say,” Kim agreed. She leaned forward. “Wanna tell me why you swore Nick to secrecy about all this?”

“Because you didn’t have all the information and you would’ve killed me or not let me see Carmina?” Nicolette replied, stopped short. “Where _is Carmina_?”

“Safe, with friends til your house arrest is up and _that one_ leaves,” Kim explained and nodded towards John. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Nicolette sighed and followed Earl into the backseat. The pair of them climbed in, and Nick started the drive back to their house. She opened the window and looked down at John. “You holding up?”

“I swallowed at least three insects and I’m going to be coughing up dust for the next _year_. How would you be?”

Nick muttered something about karma, and then sped up so they could hit a bump in the road harder than necessary.

John’s head hit the side of the bed once they passed over it. He hissed. “That stopped being subtle after the third time!”

Nick merely turned the radio up.

When they reached the house, the four of them cut John loose and promptly shoved him into the Rye’s trailer before going into the house.

Nicolette dropped into her usual spot on the couch nearest to the door. She glanced around at all of the baby items scattered around and a pit started in her stomach. She was suddenly fairly grateful that little Carmina wasn’t around to add another level to the ‘this could be your life soon’ angle. She touched her stomach idly for a minute til she caught herself. Really, because that wasn’t a dead giveaway. _Idiot._

“So… what the Hell have you guys even been doing?” Kim asked. “You could’ve blown us both over when we saw that broadcast.”

“Yeah, well, me too. And honestly we’ve just been trying to manage. John wants Joseph dead but he’s pulling theatrics to make sure everyone knows it, I have Deputy shit to do-”

“And you took out Joseph’s statue and foiled a Peggie attack on Falls End. I heard John made it seem like he switched sides again. Fucking asshole. Must’ve been terrifying.”

“But not surprising,” Nick supplied.

She nodded. “Yeah. It was a ride to say the least,” she glanced out the window at the trailer. “I need to go see him. We were talking business before the Peggies attacked us.” There, that wasn’t even a lie, considering John had chosen seconds before the Peggies had shown up to confront her about the Joseph-shaped fuck-up. She rose to do just that.

“Where the Hell do ‘take it easy’ and ‘talk to John’ go together?” Nick asked.

“They don’t, but I’d rather get this particular conversation over and done with before he lets it fucking escalate.” She felt the other three about to protest so she hurried out before they could. She opened the trailer door and stepped inside.

John poked his head out of the bathroom, apparently having spent the last while attempting to rinse most of the dust off of himself. He merely frowned at her before ducking back inside.

She crossed her arms over her chest. _Fucking dramatic child._ “I’m here so you can say your piece that you were gonna say before things went to shit. That’s all.”

He scoffed and practically stormed out of the room. “Oh, _now_ you’re interested.”

“It wasn’t the time or place last time,” she argued.

“But this house arrest bullshit is?"

“It’s just you and me now, that's the important part."

John scoffed. “That’s the _problem_.” He flinched when there was a knock at the door, followed by Nick calling for Nicolette. “We are _trying_ to _have_ a _FUCKING CONVERSATION_!” he barked.

“Came to tell Nic that if things go south I’m right by the door!” Nick countered.

“Nick, I’m fine, go inside!” Nicolette called.

John waited a few seconds, then tossed his hands up. “Any other guests you’re expecting? I haven’t seen Grace in a while, does she know about this? Is she gonna come kicking in the door because she assumes I’m gonna be in the middle of murdering you? Maybe I should just fuck you in here as loudly as possible, would that get the point across to them?”

“ _John_ ,” she warned. She hoped Nick had been far out of earshot to have heard any of that.  She flinched when John slammed his hand into the wall beside him.

“What the fuck were you thinking going to Joseph alone?” he hissed.

The particular subject change was jarring for a moment until she realized she could’ve expected it. He had been seething since she had shown back up in town, she knew that much. “I just wanted answers with as little collateral damage as possible-”

“‘Collateral’...’” he repeated, and all the anger that had been radiating off of him immediately dissipated. “Your sin isn’t fucking Pride, but I thought you had more of it in you than _that_. You could’ve died! He could’ve killed you and we would’ve been none the wiser.  _You!_ And then what would’ve this entire county done?!” he jabbed his finger towards the window. “What would they have done without you?! Did you ever think about that?! How could you let them live knowing you abandoned them on some suicide mission alone?!”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m a figurehead. I’m a face, same as you. The Peggies are holding up without you. It’d be the same with me. They’ll manage.“

“ _No_ , they won’t.”

She frowned at him, and when he refused to break eye contact, she squirmed uncomfortably. Every single time he seemed to have a moment of vulnerability, of decency, she was guaranteed to reject it. But this one was so _raw_ she could feel it in the air. And then the fact that he used ‘abandoned’ so adamantly came to mind. “We’re not talking about ‘they’, are w-”

His mouth was on hers before she could finish the thought. The kiss was just as hard as their first, but there was far more desperation behind it. She returned it for a few moments until she realized it was some half-assed way to reassure him, and he still deserved nothing of the sort. She tried to slide her hands between them to push him away and put a stop to the nonsense it was putting her brain into, but he caught her wrists in his hands and pinned them beside her, seeking out her mouth more eagerly in the process. And the fact that he hadn’t gone for her clothes or wasn’t grinding against her by then added to the ever growing concerns list about the meaning of that particular sentiment he had just expressed.

When he finally broke away, he took hold of her hips and pressed his forehead to hers, then reached up to hold her head still for good measure when she turned away. “Listen to me. _Listen_. You’re the only person in my fucking life that hasn’t disappointed me once. Even when you were foiling every plan I had, I expected it- I could count on you being _consistent_. And then there’s the fact that we’re Wrath. We understand each other, whether you believe that not. That might not mean something to you, but it does to me. You are all I have anymore in so many ways. I cannot, _will_ _not_ lose you to your own _fucking stupidity_. You want to go confront Joseph again, I am coming with you.”

She opened her mouth and shut it repeatedly for a few moments. She didn’t even know where to start. He had just more or less entirely copped to the dependency she had noticed plain as day. And she wasn’t even as disgusted as she knew she should’ve been. Until she recalled one of Addie’s jokes about John being in ‘ _some kind of love_ ’ with her, and… _nope, no_. She wasn’t going to entertain that thought at all. She glanced back at John to find him staring and realized he was still waiting on a response. “... Well, our particular brand of stupid does have a knack for making us stronger when we’re in the same vicinity. Imagine what it’ll do when we’re on the same side.”

John looked away and pulled back his hands, nearly like he had been burned, and Nicolette tried to will away the sudden pit in her stomach the reaction caused. You sure do know how to fuck things up. “ _Yes_ ,” she said after a moment, and he looked back at her. _Damage repaired, hook, line, sinker._ “You’re coming with me.” She knew it was most likely going to end up being a lie, and she knew he knew, but he merely nodded in response.

“So, now that all three of your stand-in parents are out there and you’re ordered to take it easy because this place finally caught up with you, what’s the plan?” John asked.

She nearly laughed. The bastard had offered her an escape route. She wondered if it was for her benefit or he realized just how much he had said and that was his attempt at backpedaling. Still, she’d take it. “I need another map of the county, for starters.”

“Consider it done.”

 


	17. Before You Go Breaking My Heart (And I Fall Deeper in ... )

A few hours later, Nicolette and John were holed up in the Rye’s living room.  It hadn’t been a great choice and she nearly had to literally twist Nick’s arm to let it happen. The map that John had found was “outdated by five years” so they had needed a new one, so she had requested being let in.

Boomer, however, had never looked happier. Once they arrived, the dog had immediately run to her side, then immediately spotted John and gave the man an uncertain look and a fair bit of distance before he returned to Nicolette’s side, nosing at her hand and rubbing against her.

Once they were settled, the Ryes had made ground rules, all for John: Don’t go anywhere without an escort, keep your hands visible, speak only when spoken to.

John had humored them, surprisingly.

Before long Nicolette had gotten through her chosen task for the map- to see how many bunkers there were outside of the main ones, what their purposes were, and how many people could be housed within them.

Nicolette had nearly had a fit when she found out that there was one directly under Falls End that was as big as the siblings’. And John had it commissioned because he knew that the townsfolk would be problematic and it would’ve added insult to injury for them after they refused so much, only to have the Collapse come and have salvation right under their noses but be unable to use it.

It had launched Nick and John into an argument about morality.

Naturally, Allan had impeccable timing because he chose then to radio her. He announced himself first and then mentioned “what they discussed.” She had practically hopped off the couch and hurried outside, and she heard Earl run interference for her, claiming she had talked to the doctor about meds for ‘anxiety and the like.’

She had radioed Allan back. “So, what’s the verdict, Doc?”

“ _Bloodwork came in positive. I’d say congratulations, but by the sound of what you were saying_ …”

She barely even registered the rest of the sentence, far more invested in the first four words. Sure, she had just about accepted it as fact by then but hearing it from an actual doctor just solidified everything. She was pregnant with a fucking Apocalypse just around the corner, the father was an old enemy with serious fucking issues, she had killed its one sort-of-aunt and uncle, and the only living uncle was three times as crazy as its father. And granted, her own family history was just about as messed up as that one- not nearly to the same scale, but not great either. Christ, she knew how to fucking run her life into the ground without trying.

“ _-uty? You still there?_ ”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here. So uh… when’s the first checkup?” she asked and hoped that her voice didn’t sound like it cracked as much as she thought it did.

“ _Uh, an official first one might not hurt within a couple of days, if you’ll be around. Things have been quiet as far as Peggies go_.”

“Alright. I’ll keep in touch.”

“ _Stay safe, Deputy._ ”

Even through the radio, she could tell he had more questions but knew better than to ask- via radio, at least. “You too.” She waited a couple of minutes before shutting the radio off for good measure. She eased herself to the ground and looked around. There was evidence of babyproofing all over the place indoors and outdoors around the place, and she finally fully understood why Earl had expressed feeling sort of bad about his plan once she had told him. And now it was a reality. That would be her life- if she even got the fucking opportunity.  Nausea settled in her stomach and she tried to breathe through it and tried to focus on anything else, but the first thing her mind went to was ‘ _Joseph was right_ **_again_ ** ’ and that made everything worse. How many more times could she deny him having all the details the Voice provided? She touched her stomach idly. _Joseph said ‘son’- that was probably going to be the last possible thing she could cross check- no. Don’t you dare entertain him._ But she couldn’t ignore the fact that he was nearly batting a thousand with correct prophecies, and that was still hard to deny.  “Fuck…” she sighed. She flinched when she heard footsteps behind her. “I’m fine,” she said without turning around. She remembered how poorly she had last executed that statement and waited.

“Well?”

Earl. She sighed in relief. If it had been John, she might have word vomited _everything_ and damn the consequences. She looked at him and forced a smile. “John or Nic Junior confirmed,” she reported, but the joking tone died halfway through. “My life’s a fucking mess and now I’m gonna bring a kid into it- if either of us live long enough.”

Earl sighed and reached over to give her hand a squeeze. “You’re gonna be fine. The last few months have proved that. You’ll just have to let us do the hard work for a while.”

“Well, when you say it like that…” she replied. She was silent for a while. And then a fresh dread caught her. “Would’ve been nice to have a kid in a fucking stable environment. Then again, I don’t know what a stable environment fucking is. God, I’m gonna be a shit mother.”

“Not on your life,” Earl countered. "You'll be a damn fine one."

“How the fuck do you know?”

“Because you know what _not_ to do,” Earl replied. “And you learn from everyone’s mistakes but your own, most of the time.”

She laughed weakly, then sighed. “What if he turns out like John?”

“First off he’s got a lot more going for it than John did. Second, since when is it already a ‘he’?”

She scoffed. “Since Joseph saw John’s and my son in his latest vision,” she threw her arms out overdramatically, voice dripping with sarcasm. “My eyes, his smile or some bullshit.”

Earl squinted. “He what? When did…?” he sighed. “You lied to us about him not being at the Compound,” he realized. He immediately set his jaw and gave her a disapproving look. " _Damn it_ , Rook." 

She nodded.

The man shook his head. “It could’ve been a goddamn ploy. Rile you up, throw you off.”

“Tell that to my fucking uterus and the _baby inside it.”_

Earl bristled again. _“_... It’s coincidental.”

“God, I hope so.”

There was a thankfully companionable silence for a while after that, but it was broken when they realized there was _dead silence_ from inside the house as well- no distant arguing, no Kim telling the men to shut up, no nothing.

As if on cue, Nick’s voice rang out: “Sheriff?! Nic, get in here!” Nick called from inside.

The pair of them exchanged looks.

“Twenty bucks said they had to knock your boyfriend out,” Earl said and got to his feet.

“ _Can you not?_ And I wouldn’t put them past murder, honestly.” When Earl set her with a disapproving look, she made a face. “What? I didn’t say it _wouldn’t be_ _earned_. I’m sleeping with the guy, we’re still working through our shit.”

The Sheriff shrugged again. “Well, the murder _would_ solve a third of your baby problems-”

“ _NICOLETTE!_ ”

She flinched. So John was conscious, at least.

Earl arched an eyebrow at her. “You’re on a first name basis, huh?”

“Not exactly. That usually means something is wrong.”

They hurried back inside to see the other three huddled by the television, shoulder to shoulder and not seeming to mind.

Nick, of course, was staring at John, apparently still just as interested in the fact that he had called Nicolette by name until whatever was on television gained his attention again.

Joseph was onscreen. He looked like he was in his church, camera zoomed directly onto his face.

They had caught the broadcast late, apparently. By the sound of it, he was already deep into one of his usual spiels. “- _the Path we follow is not an easy one. It may not seem it, but I know that. I stay strong for_ ** _you_** _._ _The snakes in our garden believe they are helping. And we must respect that.”_

“What’d he just say?” Nicolette forced out.

“Tries to kill us all for doing that and suddenly he’s okay with it?” Kim agreed.

In a move that might’ve been comical in any other situation given both contexts, John and Nick made an identical hand motion at them to signal them to be quiet.

The women exchanged annoyed looks, but looked back at the television.

“ _I made a deal with the ringleader of the snakes the last time we met in this spot. Unbenounced to each other, we kept our respective promises. And as most of you are aware, she preserved John’s life when she could’ve taken it. An act of kindness I will not overlook. And neither should any of you._ _You have called John our Judas-_ ” there was another scoff from John- “ _but even he cannot be blamed. His mind was poisoned- not by the Deputy, but by our past. When we all assumed the Deputy’s lie was truth, I mentioned he_ _was a mere child, abused by all but Jacob and I. Some of you still do not understand my reasons for shutting Eden’s Gates to him. But the Voice was insistent that this would be the better path for him, for us all. I love my brother, even if he may not seem to think so any longer, but helping him is out of my hands. I did what I could, giving him to her. But the Deputy can, has, and will help our brother.”_

Nicolette noticed John go absolutely still at that.

“... _She opened her heart because of her ability to love  unconditionally- something I doubted her capable of. And I ask you not to fail where I did. For the sake of forgiveness. Forgive the sins of the Father…_ ”

Nicolette’s blood went cold when he looked up at that, directly at the camera, and she wasn’t sure whether to scoff or scream in rage. He wasn’t asking them to forgive him for failing them as The Father. He was asking _her_ to forgive John- the father lowercase ‘F’- forgive _John’_ s sins- forgive _their_ past. She glanced John’s way to find that he was still rooted in the spot, staring, but there was another storm going on in his eyes. She steeled herself again. With all he had unloaded on her before, she knew he needed something to ground her, and if it had to be her, so be it. She leaned over to him as subtly as possible and nudged the back of his hand with hers. She inhaled sharply when he hooked his pointer finger with hers for a moment, but the second they made full contact he nudged her hand away and scoffed a third time.

“... _Forgive the sins of a Deputy and her people_. _And so I come to a plea- for my children- for the Resistance. The Collapse depends on you, on your leader. I am willing to put this all behind us, as I did before. Let us live in peace, let the Collapse come another time-”_

Kim finally took her turn to scoff, went over to the remote and shut the television off. She looked around. “Sorry. Allergic to bullshit. It’s probably gonna repeat like _that one_ ’s broadcasts. Anybody believe him?”

There was dead silence for a matter of seconds. John was the first to break it- by storming out of the house without a word.

The remaining four looked around and silence passed again until there was a resounding “ _FUCK!_ ” from outside. Nick scratched his ear. “Uh, anybody wanna…? Is he… ? Did y’all leave any guns in our trucks?”

“I got it,” Nicolette said quietly.

Nick gave her a frantic look. “Bu-”

She waved her hands dismissively, not sure where to begin. She hurried out the door.

John was a few feet ahead. His fists were clenched and one of the flower planters in the front had been tipped over, and she wasn’t sure whether to be grateful that it had been the only victim of John’s rage or worried at the fact that he had gone from neutral to that angry as quick as he had. “John…?”

He scoffed. “You know, you might not disappoint me, but I wish you would for once. Then maybe I’d stop expecting you to _lie to me_ ,” he spat, more venomous than ever.

“Wha-”

“He said casting me out was a plan of his- that he intended it that way, that you taking me in was a kindness. You didn’t so much as blink. The Ryes looked less convinced about what he said than you did, and they _hate me_.” He looked away. “I was unconscious for one of your meetings with Joseph, and you already lied about the other one. How long have you known he considered _this_ part of _his_ plan? That he still…” he trailed off.

He was furious, she needed to talk him down then and there. “First off, he lies more than you do,” she began.”How the Hell should I have known-”

John scoffed again. “I’m not talking about Joseph or me, I’m talking about _you_. That’s the funny thing, Deputy. Out of the two of us, _you’re_ the liar. I never lied to you. _Not once._ ”

“That’s not-” she huffed. “What matters is it could be a trap-”

“Of course it’s a trap,” John cut her off. “But I don’t know _who it’s for_ because you never told me the truth about what you and him talked about-”

“Because I didn’t know what to believe. I still don’t!” she objected. Then, the more she thought about it and read his face: “... is this more about me keeping the truth from you- _which is not lying_ \- or the fact that I was right back then and he still loves you? What do you want me to say?” she countered. “You’re the one who said he abandoned and hated you, not me. I never doubted it.” When John went silent again, she sighed. “Maybe we’re both right, or maybe he’s just fucking with both of us, telling us what we want to hear,” she went on.

He looked away.

Nicolette sighed. She had only seen him look so far away when they were in the bunker and he was talking about his upbringing. She had entirely lost him- and she had a feeling it could’ve been for good. She had counted on his rage, and Joseph had ruined it all in one fell swoop. It was probably part of his plan all over again. She needed to start considering there was absolutely no predictability with the man. And her stomach twisted when she realized the same could’ve gone for John. The only thing she could count on with them was that they had been through some shit together, and it really was only a matter of time before things went south and the alliance would’ve been tested by blood. Expecting any less had been stupid on her part. Keeping John in the dark had been even more of a stupid move. “If you wanna go back to him, I won’t stop you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “When we were in the Bliss, Burke had a Hell of a lot to say about choice and free will- doing stuff we aren’t blindly expected to do, and how he never really got to choose. I failed him. Least I can do is give you a choice and not fail you,” she explained.

“Your nobility’s going to get you killed,” John replied weakly.

She shrugged. “Got me this far. Got _us_ this far,” she mused. “Then again, with… how things went down, this was bound to happen, too. You guys are family.  I killed two of yours, you and your siblings killed some of mine.This little alliance was a trainwreck waiting to happen, and…well, _crash_. Kinda hard to compete with the Voice and a blood relative.”

John swallowed hard, but stayed quiet.

She sighed again. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know that’s probably not enough, but… still. I kept it from you with the best intentions.”

“How the fuck do you get ‘best intentions’ from _that_?” John hissed.

“Because _I care about you_ , you fucking idiot," she countered. "I didn’t want to, and God knows you don’t deserve it, but _I do_. And we’ve been through enough shit together or separate that if one of us could’ve caught a break from what was probably bullshit, I was gonna take that chance.” She merely blinked after the finished the sentence, full on stunned at just how honest that had been. She hadn’t even thought she’d known half of that a matter of minutes ago. She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent her from word vomiting anything else- even the goodbye she could feel coming- the admission that she probably didn’t have it in her to try and kill him if things dropped even further south. And then there was the biggest, glaringly obvious thing she had been hiding from him. Still, if he had reacted to Joseph saying that, the kid angle would end in fucking disaster. “... Be careful, John,” was all she came up with before she turned on her heel and headed for the house again.

Once she made it inside, she dropped back on the couch, hyper aware of the three sets of eyes on her.

The silence that followed for seconds was near deafening.

“What the fuck was that?” Nick finally asked.

“That was everything going to shit and us losing one of our biggest opportunities for beating Joseph at his own game,” she replied.

“ ‘Losing’?” Nick repeated. He immediately went to the door and opened it. “He’s gone. Why the fuck is John gone?”

“Because he found out that I knew that Joseph or the Voice or whoever thought that this team-up was a good idea and that Joseph doesn’t exactly hate him despite the whole closed gates thing,” Nicolette replied.

“And you just let him go?!”

“It was talking him down and cutting him loose or letting him go on a fucking rampage like that. He wasn’t exactly a prisoner anymore, anyway. What the fuck would you have done?” Nicolette countered. 

“ _Not_ let him go!” Kim protested.

“Enough, you two,” Earl scolded. “Rook’s got a plan. Always does. All we have to do is go with it.”

The other two didn’t look convinced, but they both looked tired enough to give up for the day. It was, after all, a night without John, even if the future was now entirely up in the air. Before long, the Ryes filed out of the room and headed upstairs.

Nicolette had a feeling they were probably coming up with a list of ways she had gone insane or switched sides, so she collapsed back on the couch, buried her face in her hands and wished the entire world would swallowed her up and her worries would be gone.

After a beat, Earl sat beside her. “Please tell me you’ve got a backup plan.”

“I haven’t got anything,” Nicolette replied. “We’re back to square one, and the ball’s in Joseph’s court.”

“Well, shit.”

“You’ve got that right.”


	18. The Calm Before the Coming Storm

Nicolette stared down at the maps she and John had poured over hours ago, suddenly painfully aware of just how big of a job she was planning. Kim had stayed at the house with her but gave her a wide berth after sensing the stress, Earl had gone back to Falls End just in case John 'tried anything', and Nick had taken to making a few rounds around the house for the same reason.  And Nicolette had never felt _so fucking alone_   in her life. Kicking the hornet’s nest _again_ while trying to get as many people close to bunkers via radio calls, word of mouth and a few scattered PA systems was going to be a bitch. Of course, this was all for a stupid hypothetical situation that she had literally dreamt up- or had been indoctrinated into her head. It could all be for nothing.

There was a knock on the door “Hey, Nic…?”

She glanced up upon hearing Kim’s voice. “Yeah? Come in!”

Kim opened the door, then walked in carefully. She paced the room for a while and looked back at the other woman every so often, but she remained silent.

Nicolette flinched. That was Kim’s ‘I mean business’ walk. She had probably picked up on something after that whole ordeal, and now things were about to go to complete and utter shit, more than they already had.  

Kim finally stopped mid-stride and looked at her one final time. “Okay, so there’s no easy way of asking this, so I’m just gonna come out with it: why did that whole thing with John just look like this county’s _most dramatic breakup_? Like, shit _did_ get thrown around, but all that was missing was a goddamn rainstorm and you two yelling and _it would’ve put The Notebook to shame_. I’ve never seen John _that fucking calm_ while arguing with someone.”

“Yeah, well, Joseph just announced to the whole fucking county that he still loved him and wants what’s best for him after the fucker abandoned him for failing to have _me_ atone.  And they have a long history of fucked up family dynamics and abandonment issues and-” she stopped short at her own words. Even if she had genuinely meant letting John choose Joseph and family over getting petty revenge, the whole angle he probably considered her sending him away as her _abandoning him_ had just occurred to her. And she had done so mere hours after he had mentioned her being the only one who didn’t abandon him or let him down _yet_. Her throat suddenly burned, and the sudden realization that ‘I care about you, you fucking idiot’ might have been a massive understatement. That messed with her head in about twenty new ways. She was about as fucked up as he was. “ _Fuck_.”

“ _Nic_ ,” Kim insisted.

Nicolette looked at her. Hearing that particular sound in that tone when it was directed at her and not the other Nick in Kim’s life was nearly terrifying. No wonder Nick always folded the second she used that voice.

Kim crossed her arms over her chest. “Were you two…?”

She sighed.  She couldn’t lie to Kim, even if she had wanted to hide the truth so badly before. “Kind of…? It’s… complicated.”

“How long…?”

“After Joseph stabbed him in the back,” Nicolette replied. “Nothing was going on… before, when he was making your guys’ lives a living Hell, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“I…” Kim trailed off. “Shit.”

“That’s the consensus.”

“ _John_? _Really_?" 

“... That’s the _other_ consensus,” she replied. “I’ll uh… leave if you want. I mean, secret’s out, there was no way it was gonna stay hidden for much longer. I mean, I’m… kind of sort of a _thing_ with the guy who flayed your husband, one of my best friends- God, I’m so fucked up.”

Kim sat down and nudged Nicolette in the arm, much to the latter’s surprise. “You’re not going anywhere as far as we're concerned, and no, you’re not, you’re just… handling the insane shit the world’s throwing at you with an equally insane solution. Sounds like you’re an official resident of Hope County now. Some of us start a Resistance, others try to communicate with aliens, others bring back the Testy Festy, you’re… ‘ _a thing_ ’ with one of the guys who started all this bullshit… just another day for the residents of Hope County.”

Nicolette forced a laugh, then leaned into her. “I love you.”

“Love you too, really, really stupid life decisions and all,” Kim replied.

The other woman smiled, but it dropped quickly. “Speaking of really stupid life decisions-”

“Oh, no…”

“Shut up. Just… I know you and Nick aren’t exactly prepper people, but… you know, it might not hurt to hang out with people who are.”

Kim blinked at her, already understanding what she was getting at.“... Next time lead with the fact that you’re buying into Joseph’s crap first, _and then_ tell the fact that you and John are an item, because at least you and John being involved makes a Hell of a lot more sense.”

Nicolette gaped at her for a second. “Okay, _we’re gonna go back to that,_ but… it’s not… I’m not putting more thought into it because of Joseph, I just… this is gonna sound crazy-”

“Everything you’ve said in the last ten minutes is crazy, Nic,” Kim pointed out.

“Fair point. Look, I just… to my knowledge, I wasn’t Blissed out when I dreamt of this place going up in nuclear destruction. Literally. And… “ she trailed off when Kim gawked at her. “Nothing like Joseph, though. I’m confused and doubtful and think it was just my subconcious fucking me over… maybe. But _look_ , he’s insane, I’m never gonna see things his way, I promise, but… since when has he gotten anything wrong- don’t give me that look, I said he’s a madman, he doesn’t deserve the time of day, but you can’t deny his predictions are weirdly accurate. I mean, me, my people showing up, the… seals of the Apocalypse or whatever…” she wanted to mention the whole John thing, but she knew Kim wasn’t ready for that particular can on worms.

Kim leaned back. “So… you killing John was supposed to be a seal for the Apocalypse or whatever, right? You beat that prediction.”

Nicolette flinched. “Well, after what just happened, I’m not quite sure if that’s off the table or not.”

Kim opened her mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by the radio at Nicolette’s radio going off.

“ _I trust you’ve seen my latest message, Deputy._ ”

Kim’s eyes shot to Nicolette’s upon recognizing Joseph’s voice.

Nicolette growled and picked it up. “Only about what I’m assuming is half to two-thirds of it. I got bored. You know, we all thought John was the one who never got sick of hearing his own voice, but now I’m starting to realize it’s you.”

_“Have you thought about my offer?”_

“I don’t even know what your entire offer is. I’m one person, Pal. Deciding to end your own fucking crusade where you’ve killed people is gonna be mighty complicated and there are a Hell of a lot of people who still want your blood.”

“ _Are you among them?_ ”

“Depends on the minute.”

 _“Then there’s still hope that you’ll see the light; God’s light -_ ”

“Please, ensure that I vomit and finish that sentence with ‘my light’,” she deadpanned.

“ _Why do you mock us so_?”

“Hey, I might have been waterlogged at the time, but if I remember correctly, I’m not the only one who takes pride in mocking your bullshit.”

“ _Hm. And what does John have to say about all this?_ ”

She bit back a snarl. He had said the response like he knew John had left. He probably did. John was probably back with him, and things were business as usual. “You’re the all-seeing one, Joseph. You tell me.”

There was dead silence for a while, then Joseph finally spoke again. “ _Consider my offer, Deputy. We’ll speak soon_.”

It was silent again for a while, and Nicolette stared at the receiver for a while, hardly believing he had called it a day just after that. Well, there was the possibility that John had shown up at that exact moment- or he had caught wind of him arriving. “Shit…” she threw the radio onto the couch. She spared a glance at the television in the corner and practically punched the power button.

The address had looped back to the start, and she tried to drown out the bullshit she had heard to be ready for the rest.

On the screen, Joseph rose to his feet. “ _I speak now to the Deputy: we have tried this before. You accepted, and by_ _sheer accident_ _, Fate had other plans for you. For **us**. I am willing to try settling this with peace again. Unless you are not…”  _ something changed in his eyes again. _“Let us not escalate this to hatred again. I did not want to make martyrs before **or now** … but I will, if it comes to it.  Come to me, if you wish to finish this. Let us try again_.”

His eyeline drifted to the floor, and the video cut and looped again.

Kim stared at it for a while. “What guy promises peace and love and other bullshit and then ends it on a threat like that?” she asked. “You know, Faith’s not even his blood relative, and you only killed Jacob. They tried to take out all of your people, made you kill Eli… you’re worse off. That’s… a lot of anger for a guy who fucked you over more.”

Nicolette scoffed. “You’re not wrong.”

“Yeah. For a guy who claims that all sins are wrong, he’s being mighty _wrathful_ right now, don’t you think?”

Nicolette froze. Her head shot up to look Kim in the eye. “What?”

Kim crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, how John marks everybody with their sins? He’s Wrath, Jacob was totally Wrath, I bet the Sheriff would say Faith was Wrath… seems to run in the family. Joseph doesn't seem to be different, that was totally _wrathful_ just now, you can't tell me it wasn't.”

Nicolette’s heart skipped a beat as several pieces fell into place. She could just about hear Jacob's commentary as clear as she had in that drugged-out state before she had killed him: ' _you think I give a shit if I die? That’s my purpose. I give my life for Joseph’s, and I do it gladly.'_ And then the rest fell into place _. John was Wrath._ Joseph probably considered himself as the bearer of all sins, but he had a healthy dose of Wrath, and there was plenty of evidence to prove it.   _“You are destined to be slain by your own sin_ ” - ' _I did not want to make martyrs then or now, but I will..._ ' the pieces continued to fall into place.  “Oh, you son of a bitch…” she hissed. The siblings were the seals. They were the assurance that the Collapse would come- that Joseph would _have_ and _protect_ his flock and see them to Eden. But he had still wanted his siblings there at Eden with him. The more she thought about it, the more it confused her. Joseph was a family man, but he seemed to want to be right even more- for every theory, there was another direct contradiction. Sharky was right again. There was a chance Joseph wanted John dead. And John was headed right for trouble. “Shit…” she jumped up and retrieved the radio again, jamming it into her belt as quickly as she could. Now even Faith's promise that 'you will decide what happens' made a Hell of a lot more sense. 

Kim rose with her. “What’s up with you? What did I say?”

Nicolette grabbed her hand and all but dragged her towards her and Nick’s bedroom. “Go get all your important shit, throw it in a truck, get baby Carmina, go to Falls End, get into the bunker there. Apparently it’s around that farm behind town.”

“What?!” Kim shrieked. “What the fuck is going on?!”

“Preparing for the worst case scenario,” Nicolette replied. “NICK! NICK!” she hurried down the stairs with Kim close at her heels.

Nick practically charged through the front door with Boomer at his heels. “What? We got Peggies?”

“No, we’ve got a potential much _bigger_ problem.”

“Like what?”

“Possible nuclear annihilation if Joseph gets his way any time between now and… whenever I see him next.”

The other two gawked at her. “What?”

“I… it’s a long story, just… go get your family and your shit together and go to Falls End, alright? And warn everyone you can and tell them to do the same- doesn’t have to be Falls End, whatever’s closest, whatever works. _Please_.”

Nick tossed his hands up. "I thought you said you didn’t belie-”

She sighed and tossed her hands up to silence them. ‘I _don’t_. This is my stupid fucking head and theories I’m going off of. I’m praying I’m wrong, believe me. Please… just… _do this_. I know it’s ridiculously short notice going off of nonsense, but please, just… do it for me.” Her throat burned again. “Promise me the second I leave, you guys will get going.”

“Nic, what the fuck?” Nick asked, reading enough of her body language to know she wasn’t messing around.

She bent down to address Boomer, and judging by the dog’s facial expression, he knew something was up, too. “Hey, Boy. You’ve taken good care of me, I need you to take good care of them now if I don’t come back, huh?”

Boomer whined and licked at her face, and tears did successfully spring to her eyes at that, so she helped Boomer to the ground before she turned her attention back to the Ryes. She swallowed hard and tried to contain the sob that was already threatening to fall. She threw her arms around them. “I love you guys. I need you to know that. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you guys.”

“Nic…” Nick repeated.

“What’re you doing?” Kim added.

She sighed. “Making a really, really stupid life decision,” she quoted Kim from minutes ago. She backed up towards the door and gave them a final look. She wanted to say goodbye, but she figured that would make this all too real and most likely seal her fate. She turned on her heel and headed out the door. 

 


	19. No Sense in Running, The Hammer's Coming Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the home stretch, because apparently every single Far Cry 5 writer subconciously decided to time their fic's endings within a couple of weeks of each other. This fic's got about two or three chapters left in it. Hope you all have enjoyed.

Nicolette tried the radio for the fifth time since she had started making her way towards Falls End. She had thankfully found an old truck at the side of the road and hopped in. She remembered his usual frequency and hoped he was still using it.  “John, if you’re out there, I know you hate me right now. You’re perfectly entitled to, but if you’ve still got any of that shit you said to me yesterday in your head, just fucking listen to me. I fucked up a lot of shit since I got here, and the last couple of days have provided the biggest fuck-ups. Just… whatever you do, don’t go to Joseph. I’ve got a feeling he’s plotting something, he’s probably listening now, I just know you’re headed straight for it, and… “ she sighed, still not exactly willing to admit the next bit. “Fuck, you’re in good company, alright? I can’t lose you, either. So just… contact me, tell me where you are or… something, I don’t know. Just… _wait_. _Please_.” It sounded rushed but she didn't have the time or energy to pour everything out. Nor did she want Joseph getting all of the details. 

She was met with dead silence for the answering couple of minutes. So he either hated her again and was being his dramatic self and ignoring her to have some sort of petty revenge, he arrived at the Compound and Joseph had his claws back in him _at minimum_ , or he just wasn’t around a radio.

She looked off to the side, where she could make out the skyline of Falls End out to her left. She tried to take it all in from a distance, knowing full well that if she caved and went to say her potential goodbyes there, she’d be done and wouldn’t even be able to go through with the new plan. She needed to trust Nick and Kim to get the point across and get them all to safety.

She switched frequencies. “Dutch, you there?”

To add insult to injury about John’s lack of response, Dutch responded within a matter of seconds. “Yeah, Kid?”

She sighed and leaned against the nearest tree. She could barely bring herself to ask the question that needed asking. “How quick can you get those emergency sirens going? And word out if uh… shit goes nuclear?”

There was loaded silence for a while, then: “you serious?”

“As a heart attack. There’s...  I think this is the official last confrontation, and… there’s just way too much shit leading up to that conclusion, I…” she trailed off, hardly willing to finish the sentence with all of its implications. She figured out of all people, he would understand the gravity of the situation, hypothetical or not. And he wouldn’t hold being _too careful_ against her.

“Well, time’s are a-changin’. Your turn to tell me what to do.”

She tried not to sigh in relief too loudly. “If things go to shit that hard, that quick- I’ll give you three bursts on here, and then I need you to send out every single warning you can get this fucking county.”

“ _... Okay. I take you’re going into the belly of the beast now?_ ”

She closed her eyes and sighed. She had never been so grateful that Dutch had that air of nuclear paranoia around him. She should’ve known he would’ve just rolled with that particular more important bit of information. “Yeah. Bad timing, I know.”

“ _No, not bad timing. Just short notice. I’ve been a prepper long enough and seen enough of this shit to not expect it any day now. Just… be careful. You’ve been around the guy long enough that I’m preachin’ to the choir saying that, but still._ ”

“Yeah. You too. Hey, if this goes south for me, whether it goes south for everybody else or not, it’s been an honor knowing you. And thank you... for everything." 

“ _... Same to you, Kid. Dutch out._ ”

“Nic out.” She sighed and clipped the radio back onto her belt. She had known Dutch would've been the easiest to convince, and she knew he knew there would've been no getting through to her if he even tried. She had never been so pleased to be right in her life.  It occurred to her a moment later that she had no idea how to proceed. Did she go to talk things out with Joseph again? He could’ve been being truthful about that. But then again, could she trust a word he said? Talk, get John if he was still alive and leave the man to his own devices, or kill Joseph and solve a world of problems?

Then again, law was different here. How many laws had she broken just dealing with all the bullshit this county provided? Not to mention there was the fact that she didn’t want to go back home at this rate. And then outside the law, the times Joseph had been right about everything were piling up in her head- the last realization being the ever present ‘ _God will not let you take me_ ’ and the helicopter crashing to the ground minutes later. At this rate she was going to take Joseph in, throw him in the most stable cell at the prison and call it a fucking day, considering Faith wasn’t around to fuck it all up again. She’d stay as the only cop left around if that’s what it took.

She’d do it by the book as possible, too. Which meant going back to that helicopter and hoping Peggies hadn’t looted the damned thing.

There was something morbidly poetic about that to top everything off- one of her potentially last stops in this chapter of her life was going back to the beginning of where it started.

She looked around. That was the problem with this neck of the woods. She knew the Valley like the back of her hand, she vaguely knew her way around the River and Mountains, but Dutch’s and Joseph’s islands were an entirely different entity. Every single square foot of the area looked the same.  And she had been turned around, confused and terrified when she had stumbled out of the wreckage to begin with.

She considered herself lucky when she made it to a clearing that just happened to house the one shack she and Burke had reunited in. The evidence of their few minutes there was still present. No one had cleared the broken glass from the windows or the exploded gas barrels. The fence they had crashed through was still in pieces. “Wouldn’t have gotten this far without you either, Burke… “ she murmured to herself. “Wouldn’t have gotten anywhere _at all_ without you.” She had been terrified back then, as angry as she’d ever been at Earl for leaving her to do the big task of cuffing Joseph and leading him out of that church. Back then she had wondered if anything would’ve changed if he hadn’t trusted the Rookie with one of the most important jobs. Now here she was, a far better shot than she started, determined to drag Joseph to Hell herself if it came to it. Just the idea of it fueled her, made it feel like second nature. Hell, if she didn’t feel like it was letting Joseph win, she would’ve fully admitted her change of attitude in the whole thing felt like _divine intervention_. _Dutch had a point. My, how times change._

She wandered the grounds for a while until something clicked in her head. She had been facing the front door of the house when she had stumbled into the clearing the first time. _Just walk away from the door, hang a gradual left and hope for the best._

She had never been so relieved to see the Mill in her life. She pointedly avoided going through it- seeing the house the showdown had started at was enough, going through that crawl space was going to end her.

She walked for another couple of minutes, saw a bunch of down or damaged trees, followed that path and sure enough, she could just make out the wreckage of the helicopter. She hurried around the trees and stepped out- then promptly froze.

John was leaning against the helicopter, arms crossed over his chest, yet another unreadable expression on his face. The second they made eye contact, he froze. 

He snapped out of it after a few moments. “Figured you’d be one for sentimentality. You come back for the warrant or your gear?”

She stared back for a while, heart in her throat. "Jesus Christ, I thought you were dead." 

"Disappointed?" John asked, voice almost _worryingly_ neutral compared to his usual theatrics. 

It took her a moment to realize she wasn't. Hell, she was shaking with relief.  That was yet another thing that she had done a 180 on. Weeks ago, she would’ve delighted in that possibility- she had very nearly carried it out on multiple occasions, and here she was, absolutely beside herself that he _wasn’t dead_. She continued to stare until the levy broke. She launched herself across the space between them in order to throw her arms around him.  

John went absolutely still within her arms. He was dead silent to boot.

She wasn't sure if he was waiting for an answer to his question or not, held onto him tighter, half convinced he had read her thoughts. Really, after all of Joseph’s bullshit, she wouldn’t be surprised if he could. Then again, he had always had that ‘I know you better than you know yourself’ policy, so it was more likely just that. And he was absolutely right.  “Shut up. We’re past the bullshit.” She released him. “You’d know that if you fucking found a place with a radio like a normal fucking person would have.”

“You asked me to wait, I waited.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then stopped short. “So you did hear... ?”

John motioned at the helicopter. “Radio’s the only thing that survived the crash.”

She tried not to gawk, only just remembering her final moments in the damn thing herself. Joseph had used that radio before she and Burke had made it out.  _Fucking Nancy._ She never figured _that_ particular betrayal would be linked to a good thing. Still, next order of business. “You’re right. At least, I think you are.”

“About?”

Joseph setting a trap. It’s for me, it was for _you_.”

“What?” John frowned, though he already looked half convinced.

She sighed. “Back before the shit hit the fan would you have died for him?”

John watched her for a while until he realized she was watching him right back, waiting for anything. He reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I… before all this, yes. He was my brother, he _found_ me, he… I owed him everything. I’d die for him in a heartbeat.”

Nicolette swallowed hard. “And now?”

“No,"he replied, then locked eyes with her. "Not _him_.”

Her eyes snapped to his again at that particular stressed word, and when the look he gave her clearly spelled out an unspoken ‘ _you_ ’ directly at the end of that sentence. She choked on a response for a while, speaking neither of about the ten that came to mind that would’ve been a proper response. “Don’t you dare.”

John sighed. “You gave me a choice less than a day ago. You thought it was a mistake. You corrected it. You _came back for me_. You didn’t find me then throw me away _again_ like I was nothing… like I was a _pawn_.”

“He wouldn’t,” she offered weakly, she ran her hands down his face and her heart broke when he leaned into the touch. “Last time Joseph talked, he assured me he loves you. You know I’m the last one to believe most of his bullshit, but I believe that. You can’t just up and unlove someone at the drop of a hat. But the same goes for you about him, too.” When he scowled, she tightened her grip on him slightly.  “He loves you, but it’s sounded like he wants to be right about the Collapse just as much. He wants to look after his people, be the Father. But the seals- you, your siblings- you die, they open. Joseph was beside himself when I went through you all, but he kept spurring me on. He wants the Collapse. So if you _actually_ die, he gets his wish. But loses you. And I can’t tell which one he thinks is better or worse.” Her thoughts drifted to that first night again, and she realized John had been too busy getting to his plane, ready to blow Burke and her truck to shit when Joseph had screamed so adamantly about the Reaping. And she didn’t have it in her to mention that was one of the reasons she couldn’t figure out which option Joseph preferred. Still, even when he was so passionate, he had been beside himself in grief with every eulogy he gave. There was no middle ground between either option. “I just need to know that you’re not gonna backtrack and throw yourself in front of a bullet if it gets that ugly because of some preordained notion that you have to die for him.”

John frowned. “I… don’t know. I… I don’t think I can kill him anymore, though.”

She nodded after a moment. “For the record, that’s not my plan. I just want to arrest the guy. I’m done killing. Was done the second I brought your fucking plane down.”

John nodded after a moment. “It’s… It’s not over some ‘preordained notion’. It’s just because of our history. The fact he’s my brother. The whole… seals ordeal was my biggest problem with his little Apocalypse theory. Faith didn’t have a choice because Joseph made it for her- made it for all of them. Jacob… didn’t want to live to begin with. I have- _had_ a lot to lose…” he replied. “I told you before we even started this that I like living, so of course I wasn’t going to be on board dying for his ideals.”

She blinked. She was surprised she hadn't expected that response, and she felt like an idiot for not doing so. Of course he'd still be directly in the middle when it came to choosing. And it did nothing to ease her nerves.  “Right. So… potential loose cannon all over again.” 

John's guarded look fell immediately at that, and he scoffed. “When have I _not_ been? In case you've forgotten, me being a loose cannon has _kept you alive this whole time_. And you’re not going there alone. We agreed.”

“I know,” Nicolette nodded. “I’m just worried. About all this. _And you._ You're coming, sure, but that also means delivering you to him on a silver fucking platter." 

John offered a teasing smile that broke the tension again. “What hurt more, saying you're worried about me, or saying that you thought I was dead and being relieved that I wasn’t?”

“Both equally, Asshole,” she replied,but still yanked him down into a kiss all the same.

John deepened it quickly, took hold of her hips and steered her back towards the helicopter.

Nicolette immediately pulled back, suddenly realizing their biggest issue hadn’t been addressed- not that she had an idea of an outcome that on it that _wasn’t_ grim with what they were about to do. Still, he needed to know about the baby-shaped complication in the plan. She whined when his teeth grazed her neck. Hell, she would almost let this particular distraction go on if the whole fact that she might die in a matter of hours wasn't first and foremost in her mind. “Hold on. There’s something-”

Her radio crackled to life, and she had half a mind to throw the damn thing on the ground and smash it to pieces.

“Every single _fucking time_ …” John muttered.

She hit his chest and motioned at him to be quiet.  She half expected it to be Earl, fully expecting him to have heard about her game plan by then. He would be livid. And there was a fifty fifty chance she was never going to see him again, and she was going to die with him furious at her. _Christ._ She tried to reel in her emotions for the sake of the call at hand. 

“ _Have you put any more thought into my offer, Deputy_?”

 _Joseph_. Nicolette was almost hurt that it wasn’t Earl, even if she knew the latter would’ve broken her. And then she just went straight to anger, between her feelings about the actual speaker and the exact moment he chose to interrupt- the same reveal that he had disarmed her with. Bastard probably saw that coming, too. Fucking Voice. She picked up the transmitter and jammed her thumb into the button. “ _We_ have, Joseph.”

Joseph was silent for a while, and then his voice came, ever the sound of practiced patience: “ _And_?”

“You wanna talk? Let’s talk.”

“ _Good. I’ll be waiting_.”

She rolled her eyes at the most-likely intentional usage of just what John had said to her those months ago before the Church showdown. Still, that had apparently been all Joseph was going to say on the matter, judging by the silence afterwards. 

John was the first to break their silence. "So, we goin', or what?" 

She sighed, suddenly desiring to keep the News quiet again. Joseph wanted this over with quickly, she'd grant him that. She wandered over to the helicopter and checked the storage bin under one of the seats. It was still locked. _Good._ She drew her pistol, shot the lock off, and yanked it out of the space. Everything she needed was still there. _Even better_.  "Yeah. We're going." 


	20. It's the End of the World as We Know It (And We're Not Fine)

The walk to the Compound was silent, save for a few passing Peggie trucks driving past. The drivers and their passengers paid the pair no mind as they walked down the road. It did nothing to settle Nicolette’s nerves. She felt like they were running for something, and the fact that Joseph was unstable to begin with was just a deadly combination. She fiddled with the kevlar vest she had on. She hadn’t missed the fact that she hadn’t seen any snipers in the trucks, and she wasn’t sure if that was some stroke of coincidence or there was something to it. She had expected a variety. If Chosen trained for headshots were all they were going up against, she had already planned this atrociously.

By the time they made it through the gates of the Compound itself, the place was nearly entirely a ghost town. The small army that had been there to greet her, Earl, Joey, Burke and Pratt was nowhere to be found. There might have been a total of five Peggies-  with Joseph at the steps of the Church, just as he had been a few months back.

He didn’t look as furious as he had before, so at least there was that.

Joseph looked to the others. “Leave us. You know what to do.”

Nicolette watched the Peggies retreat wearily, not at all willing to let Joseph go out of their sight for too long.

When they cleared out, Joseph advanced on them. “Thank you for speaking civilly with me. I… didn’t expect it, after the last time you were here.”

“Depends on what the Hell you’re getting at,” Nicolette pointed out. “You say you want peace, but after everything, I’m not so convinced.”

He set his jaw, apparently determined to fight with her as much as she was ready to fight him. “You’ve partaken,” he pointed out. “You’ve killed more than we have.”

“I had no choice,” she countered.

“Neither did I,” Joseph replied. He looked at John. “You’re quiet.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” John shot back. “By the sound of it, you wanted to do the talking anyway.”

Joseph tilted his head. “Walk with me,” he instructed, then walked towards the side of the church.

John and Nicolette exchanged looks before they studied the treeline, falling into step with him after a few moments.

“You can stop searching. I’ve sent everyone away. I thought it best we have this conversation in private,” John replied. He frowned when Nicolette merely clicked the hammer on her magnum. “Must everything still end in violence, even if we tried for peace?”

“Every single time I’ve been here I’ve been shot at. I’m not taking chances,” Nicolette replied.

Joseph merely sighed. He walked over to the water’s edge and stared out onto the lake.

Nicolette turned back towards the Compound in order to watch that area instead.

“What would peace cost to you, Nicolette?” Joseph asked after a moment.

“Your arrest. Throwing you in a cell at the prison and throwing away the key. You shutting the fuck up and leaving this entire county alone,” she replied without missing a beat.

Joseph closed his eyes and turned his head up towards the sunlight. “You still have more to see…”

“Well, you’re not going to explain it, so what’s your point?” Nicolette asked.

“Because you need to see on your own,” Joseph insisted.

She went to turn around and scoff, but Joseph caught her wrist in his hand. “Stay. Please. There doesn’t need to be trouble if there doesn’t have to be.”

Nicolette yanked her wrist free of his grip. “Then cut the cryptic bullshit and keep it simple. Like when I was in Jacob’s fucking cage.”

Joseph merely hummed, then looked back at the water. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of both of you.”

The other two scoffed. Again, Nicolette was the only one to speak: “The spot for stand-in father’s taken, Pal. I could give a shit if you were proud of me.”

“Ah, Yes. Whitehorse. I heard he returned to town.”

She froze. She knew he would have found out about him. She snarled and risked turning to him. “If you so much as _think_ of coming after him-”

“Not a threat, simply an observation,” Joseph cut her off. “You killed my Faith for threatening him. I will not make her mistake.” He looked her in the eye, then reached for her, stopping briefly only when John made a move towards the gun he had also taken from the helicopter wreck. When John made no other move, Joseph gripped the back of Nicolette’s neck and held firm so she had no choice but to look him in the eye. “I asked you to see. And you _saw_. That’s all I wanted. That’s all _God_ wanted.” He turned his attention to John and released Nicolette, walking over so he was nearly toe to toe with the man. “And you beat your sin, just like I prayed you would,” he told him, a soft smile on his face.

When he touched his forehead to John’s, John flinched, but still pressed back and swallowed hard. He clenched his fists at his sides to the point that his knuckles went white.

“You done with the cloak and dagger?” Nicolette interrupted.

He looked back at Nicolette. He pushed off of John, but not before squeezing his brother’s shoulder gently. He looked between them and heaved a heavy sigh. He raised his arms,and kept them close together- wrists bared to her-  another perfect mirror image to one of his first actions he did in her company. “If this is what making you see takes, so be it, Child…”

She frowned at him. Just like that? It felt like a trap, but he was giving her that same look he had the first time he had offered his hands to her, too. It was _too_ easy. But still, just like she had been drawn to do so the first time, the realization that she needed to cuff him settled into her mind and silenced all the doubt. The man was _insane_ , if he was having a moment of weakness, so be it. She risked a glance at John, who wouldn’t meet her eyes. _Great_. She turned her attention back to Joseph. “What, no thinly veiled threat this time? No insisting that God still won’t let me take you?”

“He won’t- another thing you’ve yet to learn. But you will. And we’ve threatened each other enough by now, don’t you think?”

She stepped forward. “Fair enough…”

Joseph stepped back. “You have come so far…” he mused. “You’ve welcomed Eden’s Gate into your heart…” he added, though there was a dark edge to it.

“Have not,” Nicolette protested.

He tilted his head. “You still know not what you do. But your heart is in it. You are ready. I commend you for that…” he continued. He smiled softly again. “‘And when they try to destroy you, rise and rise again and again, like the Phoenix from the ashes, until the _lambs have become lions_ and the rule of Darkness is no more…” he recited.

“You’re quoting poetry. _Now_. Of course you are,” Nicolette sighed.

Joseph’s chest shifted in the ghost of a scoff of his own. “Would scripture be better? And the lion opened the seventh seal, and the seven angels before God were given seven trumpets. And there were noises, thunderings, lightnings… and an earthquake.”

She looked up at a flock of birds that had passed overhead, breaking up the eerie silence that surrounded them. And then his rambling set in. Wait… seven? She scoffed. “You’re still on about the seals, huh?” She shook her head. “You know what, Joseph, I’ve had it with this. No more ramblings, you need to get help.” A buzzing that sounded like a siren started up in the distance. _Dutch?_ She hadn’t even contacted him yet.  She pulled the cuffs from her belt and advanced on him. She clapped one onto his wrist. “Joseph Seed, you’re under arrest for the charges of…” before she could finish, the feeling of deja vu hit her like a truck. And then she realized she was in the exact spot that she had been in that last nightmare that made her question everything. Same angle of the surroundings behind her, hands the same way on Joseph’s wrists, every single detail was identical. All except…  She looked up to find that Joseph had locked eyes with her again- and had that same soft, disarming smile. She froze- just in time to hear a near deafening explosion, paired with a near blinding light.

Nicolette squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly very aware of the possibility of the next thing she was about to see.  _No. No. No. This isn’t happening._ She glanced up above his head, terrified but expectant.

Sure enough, a mushroom cloud was rising from miles away by the mountains over Joseph’s shoulder. The last fucking detail of that dream _that wasn’t a fucking dream anymore_.

Joseph advanced on her. “It is finished, Child. You know what this means?”

She flinched. She could hear that damn disembodied voice- the other missing puzzle piece. “ _You were right_.”

He nodded. “I was right. But _you will be_. _Only you_. It was _only ever going to be you_ …” he whispered.  

“The seals…” she forced out. “The _seals!_  John was one, he’s alive, it wasn’t opened, _what the fuck_?!”

Joseph looked at her and through her, all at once. “A death in spirit. And you’ve changed my brother enough for that and more. He _let love in_ for you.”

“Joseph…?” came John’s voice from behind her, unsure of just how to handle the Collapse literally on the horizon now that they were out in the open and hardly safe, oblivious to the other conversation going on.

She gaped at him, at a loss about the fact that this was real. This wasn’t the dream, this was truly happening. A nuke had gone off. _Joseph was right._  “ What did you do?” she hissed at him, just as the first shockwave hit them and nearly knocked the three of them off their feet. She scrambled to her feet, then grabbed her radio and hit the talk button three times. " _Dutch_?!”

“ _I got it! Workin’ on it_!” came Dutch’s immediate response. “ _Get your ass to a bunker!_   _NOW!_ ”

Joseph looked at her and stepped forward. “This wasn’t me, Child. This was _the world_. And now it’s up to you.” He pressed his forehead to hers again. “ _Only you_ . God chose _you_ . He gave you _vision_ for a reason. My job is done. I brought my people to the Gate. My efforts will bring them through it. But you must guide them _in_ Eden. You are their shepherd now. Take care of them.”

“What?” she breathed.

He cupped her face in his hands.“You will understand. You will learn,” he stepped back- just as a dustcloud came up to add to the destruction going on around them.  “John, take her. I _love you_.”

“Bu… what about you?” John asked.

He and Nicolette exchanged frantic looks when Joseph merely started up started up singing Amazing Grace again.

“ _JOSEPH_!” Nicolette protested.

John was silent for a few moments before he snarled out of desperation and frustration. “He’s _gone_ , Nicolette,” John cut in, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. There was suddenly a weight on her shoulder, and he gave her a solid yank. “We need to go. Now.”  When she didn’t budge, he yanked on her shoulder again and started to drag her towards the truck.

Shock set in nearly immediately after. She was barely aware of anything going on after getting inside.  She was aware of her surroundings as they sped down the road less so. Trees were shaking under the pressure, animals were running by in flames, birds were dropping from the sky- she was fairly sure that she had seen more bombs go off, but she couldn’t tell. Some part of her subconscious was trying to keep up with everything and process what Joseph had said at the same time. She was a fucking major player in his game- not a pawn. She was involved in the divine bullshit. _'You did everything he said you would, and you didn’t even know it. You had no clue,_ ’- Jacob’s statement practically drilled itself into her head. But she hadn’t done everything Joseph had said. Or thought she hadn’t, and there had been some new prophecy _because the End of Days adapted to her meddling._ ‘ _You will be the one who decides what happens,_ ’ Faith had insisted- _‘you were the start. You will be the end_ .’ At least that one made more sense in context _now_. Faith had been the one who was right. Not Joseph. “Oh God…” she breathed, but she knew God had abandoned her all over again for this.

_It had been so, so obvious._

Shock was setting in, between every single event as well as her brain trying to wrap itself around what Joseph had told her. She could feel the truck tearing down the road, registered the blur of the fire’s colors, but not much else. The world faded out for a few minutes after that until she could feel John hauling her out of the truck.

“We gotta go. Come on. You have to work with me, here.”

She let him guide her again, and then she was over his shoulder a few seconds later. There was some sort of metallic banging, and suddenly they were halfway down a flight of stairs. A bunker. _They had made it._

Several panicked voices were around her after that. One stood out and tipped her back towards her senses, but not enough to completely bring her out, still on the brink of consciousness:

“Shit, Nicolette?! Put her here!”

The voice broke through everything going on in her head. _Earl._ Earl was _okay_. Earl was _safe._ Well, as safe as could be with the Apocalypse happening just outside a pair of blast doors. She felt herself getting lowered onto something.

“Wha- and you let _John_ in?!” someone called from a few feet away.

“He just got _the reason we’re all in here and not out there right now_ to safety. That’s good enough for me, and it’s damn well gonna have to work for you, too!” Earl snapped, suddenly much closer to her.  She reached her hand out to his, and he took it. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay,” directed at her and himself as well.

She could just make out Earl walking over to John, uttering thanks and shaking the man’s hand rapidly with both of his. Still, John barely reacted.

And then everything faded to black.

* * *

 

After that, she lost track of time, only waking up for seconds at a time.

The first time she woke, she had been moved to a cot in some closed off room. She was dimly aware that she was soaking wet from head to toe. They had probably had to do some impromptu hose down for the radiation particles they must've gotten caught in. She felt John directly behind her, practically wrapped around her, if his arms around her middle and legs up against hers were any indication. He was physically cold on top of that, like he had gotten the same treatment.

Someone had come in and wordlessly made her drink water before disappearing, and she was out like a light not long after.

The second, she woke from another dream of the world on fire, dulled to a smoking world. Hope County was decimated. _Eden_ , her mind supplied, and her heart broke so much her subconscious woke her up to get her out of it. This was Eden. This was _Joseph’s_ Eden. Or hers, if he was right about that, too. _Fuck._

John was gone, but a blur distinctly Boomer-shaped was there, draped across her legs. Boomer sensed her breathing change, walked up the bed and nuzzled her hand, and she returned the gesture weakly before sleep claimed her.

The third time, Sharky was in the chair next to the bed, looking just slightly worse for wear than John had. Still, he was snoring away. Boomer had left his spot at her feet to lay by his. Her heart settled at the sight. They were safe, too. She could breathe easier. She needed to find out about Nick and Kim. The fact that Boomer was there gave her hope, but if it was one thing she had learned about Hope County was that having hope was… well, _hopeless_.  They needed to be safe. She faded out again.

The fourth, Earl was there, holding her hand in a vicegrip, keeping watch over her- ever her _rightful_ father.

There was a woman judging by the second voice in the room. She had woken up halfway through a conversation, if she had to guess:

“She’s a fighter, and well, she went from overexertion after everything that happened the last few months to trying to outrun… _nukes_. _Christ._ She’s entitled to rest…” Earl heaved a sigh. “And it ain’t exactly my place to say, but just so you know all the facts, Doc, she’s pregnant.”

There had been footsteps just outside that immediately stopped, and then, because the Universe apparently wasn’t done with her yet, John’s voice carried into the room, broken to begin with but now clearly worse: “ _She’s_ _what_?”

She was grateful for her losing consciousness then.

* * *

 

When she came to again, it was the first time she felt well enough to stay awake. And it took her a moment to realize it was John’s voice that had woken her up again. She was relieved until she remembered her last few seconds of being awake and a pit settled into her stomach.

“- hear me? He was right.   _I fucking love you_ , and I can’t do this without you. Any of it.”

She froze. That particular admission was just the icing on the cake of the clusterfuck of her life. Still, she was awake and aware now, and she couldn’t exactly _not_ respond to that. But the feelings weren’t exactly mutual. There was _something_ , but he had still put her through so much. Shit. Who the fuck was she kidding? It could _eventually_ be love. It was a little too deep to be simple attraction and friendship. Hell, she was half convinced it wasn’t love he was feeling, it was just that same care she had admitted to before and he hadn’t had enough caring relationships to process it properly. She turned to face him.

John stared at her for a few silent moments, alarmed that he had been caught speaking, before he practically pounced, tangling a hand in her hair and kissing her frantically. She had to sit up slightly to accommodate him, but didn’t dare pull away until he did, pressing his forehead to hers again. She reached up to hold him there to reassure him. When he finally pulled back again, she let him. “How long have I been out?” she asked, voice as scratchy as could be.

John’s eyes snapped to hers. He was silent for a while, then sighed. “Off and on two days, but considering what was going on, no one had high hopes. For you or your…” he glanced down at her abdomen.

She sighed. “Felt longer.” She flinched when he merely grunted. The last few hours- well, days, apparently all came rushing back in one fell swoop, twice as hard as it did when it was happening. “ I’m sorry. About everything. Joseph, _and_ -”

“He knew what he was doing. He... “ he trailed off and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

She leaned over, flinching at the pain it caused. “Yes, it does.”

John looked away. “He’s gone now. For all we know he could’ve made it to safety. He’s got a knack for avoiding trouble.” The fact that he hadn’t used Joseph’s name wasn’t lost on her. He sighed. “I think there’s a far bigger elephant in the room, don’t you?” his eyes flicked back to her stomach.

She sighed and sat up carefully. Still, he had a point. “I wanted to tell you before, but…”

John blinked a couple of times and swallowed hard. “It... _is_ mine?”

She wanted to smile at how absurd the question was, but didn’t have the strength and realized it was hardly the time to do so. “Yeah. There was no one else, and we weren’t careful that first time. But uh… there’s a rumor that it’s Sharky’s… if anyone’s left alive who heard that rumor. It’s bullshit. I kinda lost it at the Spread Eagle when I was telling Addie-" The name set her thoughts to a screeching halt.  _Oh, Addie._ She wouldn't know what to do if Addie hadn't made it.  She couldn't lose her mother figure, either.

"You told Adelaide Drubman but not me?" John cut her off.

"I needed a mother's advice. I mean, we weren't exactly on the best terms, and she'd know how to handle it better than I would. Point is, when people overheard me mention the baby, Sharky said it was his to cover my ass.”

John stared for a moment, then sighed. ‘We can call it Cal’...” he recited, then shook his head. “Should’ve known…”

She sat up further. “You heard that?”

“Jerome and were passing by the window when you said it. Your voice carries. I thought that Adelaide was telling you _she_ was expecting. Thought you’d be the kind to say that kind of joke to make her feel better.”

She flinched. _Jerome._ She hadn’t heard his voice yet, or he hadn’t come by. If he hadn’t made it, God had a crueler sense of humor than she thought.

John stared at her, then exhaled sharply. “When did you have the time to find out?”

“Joseph told me that time he took us out. Said I had your son inside me. You know, I was gonna tell him it was just typical that he probably just saw a woman as a fucking incubator. That was part of the conversation at the Compound.”

“And that’s why you kept all that from me.”

She scooted forward again. “I _wanted_ to tell you, I just-”

“Don’t trust me,” John finished for her, a sudden bitter edge to his voice.

She used what strength she had gotten back to scoot scooting closer to him. She took his wrists in her hands and squeezed them a couple of times to get him to look at her. “ _Didn’t,” she corrected. “ **D**_ ** _idn’t_ ** _trust_. You… that was _the Collapse_ out there. My brain shut off with Joseph’s bullshit that isn’t bullshit anymore, and you got me out of there. You just _saved my life from the fucking Collapse_. Kinda hard to say I have any grounds of not trusting you anymore," she insisted. She immediately stopped short. "Shit. That was the Collapse," she said a third time, still not coming to terms with it entirely- or her apparent full part in it- as well as her part in the aftermath. 

John lay a hand on her knee. 

The moment was broken when there was the sound of footsteps around the corner, then someone turned into the room.

Earl was the visitor again. He looked between them,  apparently feeling the tension. “I’ll come back,” he offered and backed up.

“Wait!” Nicolette called. She sent John an apologetic look, and he merely looked away.

Earl came back into the room carefully.

She sighed. “I’m sorry you came back to help me only to get stuck in a bunker until the Apocalypse is over.”

Earl stared at her, then sat down at the foot of the bed. “Kid, considering I would’ve been dead- _dead and died under the impression I abandoned you,_  which had killed me enough already back home, this is better. Believe me.” He heard John inhale sharply behind him and studied him for a second. He arched an eyebrow when John looked back at him and offered a weak but genuine smile. He looked back at Nicolette. “You saved my life again. You’ve got nothing to apologize for."He took her hand. “And before you mention it, if this is everywhere, if... _everywhere_ got nuked like... _like Joseph said it woul_ d, Hudson died far away from this place, so that was probably a win there too, even if it ended like it did.”

Nicolette nodded after a moment. “Did we hear from anyone yet? Who’s still around?”

Earl sighed. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

Her heart sunk. That didn’t bode well for anything. But they had had nearly the same conversation before, now with far more dire stakes. “Please?”

“Heard from a couple of other bunkers, but… shit’s still burning. If there are survivors, they’re still probably settling. We’re gonna keep trying,” he leaned back. “We heard from Dutch. Addie made it inside one. Hurk Jr’s with her. People at the FANG Center made it. Including Peaches and Cheeseburger, if you can believe that.”

Her answering laugh felt wrong in her chest, but it thankfully didn’t stop her from doing so. “Jesus. The people better have enough food," she replied, trying to find light in the situation. Then again, starvation might've been better than burning to death or succumbing to radiation for man _and_ beast. "Who’s here with us?”

“Two thirds of the town residents- the Millers, the Stones, the Fryes, some of the Keatons-  still don’t know where the rest are. Us, Mary May, Sharky, the Ryes, Jerome-”

Relief hit her hard, but it was the most welcome pain in her chest that she had experienced yet. “ _Thank fuck_ ,” she sighed.

“You did good. According to Dutch, you made paranoia work for once,” Earl replied.

“Is it even paranoia if it ended up being justified?” Nicolette asked.

Earl shook his head. “The world ended. Who the fuck needs Philosophy right now?”

To both of their surprise, it was John who let out a breath’s worth of a laugh at that.

Earl looked between them again. “I interrupted. I’ll… let you get back to whatever was going on,” he offered. He turned around, then stopped and backed up. He put his hand on John’s shoulder.

John tensed up and waited, clearly expecting to be chewed out or threatened at best, even after everything.

“You put us through a lot of shit. You’ve got a lot to answer and make up for. But you got Nic here safe. That’s a fuckin’ start, as small of one as it is. Call it _Pride_ , call it _Greed_ \- but that’s where I stand. You have any problems with anyone, you come to me,” Earl instructed. 

John finally met his eyes and nodded. “Yes, Sir…” when Earl was about to cross the threshold again, he looked back. “She’s lucky to have you.”

It was Earl’s turn to snort. “You’re damn right she is. We’re just as lucky to have her,” he countered before he left.

After a few seconds, John sighed again and went back to staring at her stomach.  “So… a son…” he mused, still sounding torn- more so concerned- maybe even fearful.

She frowned. “Maybe. Still going off on Joseph’s theory here. God, you’re not one of those guys who’s gonna have a fit if it’s a girl, right? Because I really don’t need Nick Rye 2.0 on my ass about it.”

John offered a weak smile, then, after a few seconds, he squinted. “Where did you get ' _Cal_ '…?”

“I was the Anti-Christ, but now I’m apparently the fucking Messiah in the Apocalypse. You’re the brother of the fucking Prophet- we made an Apo _cal_ ypse Baby- Cal for short. You know me, humor to cope.”

John sighed with a laugh. “Not a terrible name either, all things considered.” He looked far away for a moment. “I won’t be my parents. Either set. I don’t want…” he trailed off.  “I don’t know how to be a father, Nic. Not a good one. All I know is violence and hurt from _them_ and my own life. I don’t… I can’t do that to… it. I… _it_ deserves better. _You_ deserve better.”

The use of her nickname took her aback for a moment. It took her a moment to realize this was the rawest she had ever seen him. This was going to be the biggest case of walking on eggshells around him she’d ever have to do. “Hey. Listen to me. The news coming out couldn’t have had worse timing, so that’s not helping things right now. But it’s gonna be a long, long process- more so than being a parent is in general, but… we got this far in life. The fact that you’re making that distinction is a good thing,” she offered. “We’ve got nothing but time now. And a Hell of a support system while we figure it out,” Nicolette offered. “Takes a village and all that. You won’t be alone in this…” she reassured him. She touched his chin briefly and he leaned into it again. “Plus,  if you fuck up and relapse, considering we’re in a bunker there’s not much of a chance for you to escape if the entire population in it comes after you.”

John laughed again.

“You would laugh at a threat, you weirdo.”

“It’s been a long couple of days,” he countered.

He heaved another sigh. “Our son…” he repeated.

“ _Your what_?!”

The pair of them jumped, not at all expecting to hear Nick’s voice in the doorway, an unintentional mockery of John’s own reveal.

Nick stared at them, then motioned at them weakly. “I came to check in on you and hear _that_?!” he demanded, then turned to John. “ ‘Our’ son?!” Nick demanded, though ‘son’ came out about two octaves too high. “The fuck did I miss when y’all were on your own?!” he asked. “If you ra-”

John bristled, the picture of vulnerability he had been suddenly gone, replaced by his usual arrogant look- just to keep things normal with the pilot, Nicolette was sure. “Oh, it was _very_ consensual. _Each time_.”

“John,” Nicolette insisted, absolutely mortified that the world had fucking ended and this was apparently the first argument to be had. And they had been doing so well.

Nick sputtered at him for a minute, then turned to Nicolette and gestured wildly at him. “ _Why_?!”

“Can we not talk about my life choices right now?” Nicolette cut him off. “Are Kim and Carmina okay? Get over here.”

Nick stared at her for a couple of moments before something seemed to click. The look in his eyes immediately changed and he practically launched himself at her, wrapping her in a bear hug that she eagerly returned. “I thought we lost you…” he muttered.

“Same to you guys,” she replied. “Does ‘we’ mean my other two favorites?”

Nick opened his mouth to protest, then immediately shut it and nodded. “Yeah, they’re fine, thanks to you. We’ve got people working on finding the baby shit that he stole,” Nick pointed out, then frowned at John. “Bet you wish you had it now, considering you apparently knocked up my best friend.”

“Some of it is on the lower level, you idiot. Block C,” John countered. “The rest went up in the explosion _your best friend here_ caused in my bunker.”

Nick nodded and got up. “Guess if we’re making a nursery for at least five with everyone considered here, we might as well get started. Need to get my mind off how closed in we are…”

Nicolette grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She opened her mouth.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Nick objected, then immediately got up. He looked at John. “Said it before, now it goes double: you cross her, I’m killing you.”

“Duly noted,” John agreed.

“Good,” Nick replied. He left the room, then immediately circled back into it. “... How the Hell do you get to the lower level in here?”

John scoffed. “Can I show you, or are you going to take the opportunity to kill me now?”

“Don’t tempt me, Asshole. You’re the one who cut into my chest, _you’ve_ come closer to murdering _me_.”

“And you’re fine now. Scars fade,” John protested.

“Physically,” Nick shot back. He motioned at the door, and John got up to follow him, sparing one last glance at Nicolette before the pair of them left, going back to bickering after a mere couple of seconds.

Nicolette sighed and looked down. Well, at least that was relatively normal in the long run. The world was breaking outside, but there was still some semblance of reality down in the bunker. She ran her hand along her stomach briefly. “You’re in for a wild ride, kid.”

She just hoped _she_ would be up for it, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it. All that's left is the epilogue. My heart hurts. :)


	21. Sacrifice Yourself (And Let Me Have What's Left)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the final chapter. Excuse me while I go cry. It's been fun, y'all. Thank you for hanging in this whole time and giving this fic and I so much love.

As it turned out, _expecting_ while being _expected_ to be one of the leaders in a bunker ended up being the easiest part of a seven year long stay underground.

They had heard from other survivors in the days following. By some miracle, all of the remaining Whitetails had made it. Addie and Hurk Jr were settling with the Hurk’s Gate survivors, much to the former’s feigned annoyance. Hurk Sr. had elected to stay, having launched into an argument with Addie about being stuck with all the “young liberal rats” and most likely had changed his mind at the last minute and failed to make it to the bunker.  The last survivor they had heard from was Robert, confirming he and his family were safe as well.

Thirty residents had ended up inside, and by some luck, three of them had been doctors, so health had been taken care of, and Nic, Kim and the other pregnant woman, Jill, had help along the way, and what the doctors didn’t know, other mothers in the bunker would help out with, and Allan, who made contact from another bunker a couple of days after things had settled, talked them through checkups and the like.

Tensions of the first year had been nightmarish. Of course, no one had expected to be stuck in a bunker when the Collapse actually came, but everyone had _thought about it-_ but they hadn’t really thought about how stir crazy they’d end up being.

There had been about twenty fights that nearly came to blows the first few weeks. John had naturally been on one side of about eight of them and had been the one to step in to break two of them up- which ended up causing about five more.

John himself had been a wreck the first few months. After the dust cleared, the fact that he had literally lost one of the last things he had in life, given their inconsistent last few minutes together set in for the man, and he had withdrawn from everyone but Nicolette accordingly. It had been strange for everyone to see the most arrogant charismatic _enemy_ the valley ever had reduced to a quiet depressed shell for a while.

To his own surprise, Earl had been the one to drag him out of it. He had cornered John between shifts at the radio and insisted that he understood his loss, but he thought he had made himself clear weeks before when he had demanded he get his shit together and make up for his past with them, get up, you’ve got the girl who might as well be my daughter and a kid on the way to look out for, just fucking _try_.”

The odd mix of underlying unsaid _threat_ and fatherly concern was jarring, but not unwelcome. Most importantly it did the trick and got him further out of the hole he and the universe had shoved him into. After that, John had actively sought out the Sheriff’s company most of the time, albeit for daily tasks or just conversation.  When he wasn't around, Jerome had been the one to act the part of confidant, much to everyone's surprise, though everyone seemed to understand his logic more. It was strange for the others to see, but it settled their own nerves about the whole thing a bit, and that had been enough.

The months that followed went mostly the same with people trusting John more bit by tiny bit.

There had been another shift when the “Apocalypse Baby” had decided it was time to be born.

As much as she hated to so much as consider the word, the fact that the kid had made it that far considering all it had been through, Nicolette had considered it a miracle- for both of their sakes. After the first clean bill of health pre-birth, Sharky had heard everything was sound and had made the joke that the whole situation was “like some Lost shit, the county itself is protecting the kid with some supernatural mumbo jumbo.’ She wasn’t sure what to think when she realized he might have been right at that rate.

Of course, a perfectly safe and potentially other-worldly protected baby made for a rough time. Given the limited resources, she knew she was in for a world of hurt. But twelve hours of it had been overkill.

After the birth, the doctor and his helpers had cleared out, and she had her son in her arms, she had glanced at John, huddled in the furthest corner, staring at the pair of them, face a mix of too many emotions.  “After witnessing what I just went through you’re not allowed to use the ‘ocean of pain’ metaphor ever, ever again....” she said quietly.

John let out a weak laugh. “Only ever used it once, didn’t plan on using it again.”

She smiled, then motioned at her. “Get over here and meet your son.”

John scooted closer slowly, equal parts admiring, on the verge of tears and afraid to come near it.

“You’re not gonna taint him just by looking at him,” she pointed out.

“We don’t know that,” John answered quietly.

“ _I_ do. Come on.”

John caved after that, knees touching the bed, still visibly on the edge of about twenty emotions.

“We actually have to name him now,” she pointed out.

John glanced from the baby to her. “You know... ‘ _Cal’_ was starting to grow on me.”

She sighed. “Yeah. Me too. But we gotta come up with something better than ‘Apocalypse’ as the full name. Talk about _that_ on a playground, nuh-uh.”

“Callan?” John supplied after a moment.

“Callan. I like it," she answered. “Callan Charlemagne,” she quipped after a moment.

 _“Not on your life_.”

“Aww, come on, the Ryes are the godparents, it would make Sharky’s life. It’s not like his middle name is gonna be Sharky.”

“Callan _Nicolas_ then, we’ll make Sharky godfa- no, that’s _worse_.”

“Told you. And I don’t wanna pull a Nick and have my name in the kid’s in any capacity, so no.”

Cal cooed between them and reached up, accidentally poking John in the chest, and Nicolette watched his chest tighten at the touch and then his eyes did the same range of emotions they had mere seconds before. “Hey, you’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine,” then, for good measure: “I love you.”

It hadn’t been the first time she had said it. That had been a few months ago after she woke up from him waking up from a nightmare that was apparently equal parts about his childhood and his later years with Joseph. He had settled back into bed with her and held her with such determination to force the dream out of his head that she felt like she was obligated to say so, but by then, he had come too far for her not to say it and mean it. He had been a right mess after that, but a _happy_ mess, and he didn’t look haunted anymore.

That moment wasn’t much different. He kissed her, and much to their amusement, Cal immediately started crying.

Nicolette pulled away and looked down at him. “You jealous, little guy?” she cradled him more, offered her finger and he and took it and nearly immediately stopped, and her answering grin could’ve lit up a town. “See? We love you, too.” She looked at John again. “You okay to hold him?”

John choked on his tongue for a moment, then clenched his jaw. He inhaled sharply, scooted impossibly closer and started to take Cal from her, slow as could be.

Nicolette watched him carefully, ready to step back in if he couldn’t manage. She was beside herself when a moment later, all it took was Cal to look John in the eye before John crumpled with another weak laugh, eyes shining with happy tears.

John touched his forehead to the boy’s. “Hi, little guy…” he sighed. “You’re going to want for nothing, I promise. Your mom’s right. We’re gonna love you forever. I’m not gonna make your grandparents’ mistakes with you. I’m gonna make a lot, but not _theirs_. You’re gonna have to bear with me.”

“The only grandparent you’ve got is Grandpa Earl, and he’s gonna love you, too,” Nicolette pointed out.  

“ _And_ kill your mother for not giving him ‘Uncle’ status,” John added.

“He’ll do nothing of the sort,” Nicolette replied, and grinned again when Cal smiled up at them again.

John sighed. “Our son…” he said quietly. He let out a nearly giddy laugh. “I’m a father…” he went on. Something crossed his features and he handed Cal back carefully.

“Hey. You’re not them,” Nicolette told them.

John was silent for a while, then smiled weakly again. “Thank you.”

She knew that he was thanking her for a lot more than the sentiment or the kid and the opportunity to not be his parents. “You too.”

John merely hummed, but it didn’t sound like a confirmation or denial.

“Hey, we’ve got this. You know that, right?” when he merely sighed and couldn’t meet her eyes again, she leaned over. “You know what simple answer I’m looking to hear, right?”

That derailed whatever train of thought had been going through his head. He looked back at her, then Cal, and the posItives that had been going through his mind seconds ago apparently won out, because the weak smile was back, but far more genuine- far more at ease. And then, “ _Yes._ ”

“And there it is.”

 

* * *

 

Raising a child in the bunker had been surprisingly easy. “It takes a village to raise a child” proved to be absolutely true.

John had taken a while to let the determination that he wasn’t going to be his parents win out. Cal’s first year of life had been a roller coaster for the man. Even after his confirmation that they’d be okay, he kept as much of a distance as his self-doubt would allow on occasion. Any time the boy needed any sort of discipline he had been happy to hand him over to Nicolette, and have her take over for a while.

To Nicolette’s secret relief, there was no question that John _loved_ their son. He had made it a habit every single day to _tell_ Cal he loved him daily, forehead touch and all. That had been enough to settle her nerves. It had been better when Joseph came up in conversation for the second time since they had been in the bunker and once asked, John had admitted he ‘wouldn’t know what to do if Joseph had survived- but one thing was certain- “he’s not getting anywhere near our son.”

Still, they had a rumor to uphold, so while John was the decent father he wanted to be behind closed doors, Sharky took up the mantle in public where John just looked like a friendly bystander, shocking everyone with being _kind_ to the child. Though Sharky had ended up sharing a name with the boy, he acted just as much a godfather to Cal as Nick had. Callan Charlemagne with Nick as a godfather had ended up being the ‘lesser of two evils.’ Sharky had hardly ever been seen during his free time without Cal in his arms.  After a while, even John had come to not mind the man’s presence in their lives. The two of them had even become friendly after a while.

It had changed their dynamic with each other and Nicolette immensely, and it had hardly come as a surprise to them when the three of them had ended up falling into bed with each other, and then on occasion after that.

Not long after Cal had learned to walk, he had gained his parents’ reputation for finding trouble. In one case, Earl had come into the Rye-Seed-Boshaw-Stone room to find Cal attempting to scale a tall dresser when Nicolette and Kim had been distracted with Nikki trying to do the same in the dresser across the room. The older man had scooped him off the dresser and gone to John later that day, commenting in good humor about the fact that he and his siblings had accounted for babies in the bunkers but not _babyproofing_. He had tried not to look too impressed with the man when John had traded a radio shift with Nick in order to say and start making plans to remedy that.

Of course, from then on, Nikki, Cal, and the other bunker-born child, Tommy, had become a force to be reckoned with when they were all together. Once they were three and gained the ability to run without stumbling and the knowledge that they could scream “No” and run away from adults telling them what to do (Sharky had found the first time Cal did it to John _hilarious_ , considering the man’s former obsession with the opposite word. The kids’ discovery of occasionally interrupted free reign added an entirely new level of stress to the bunker.

Cal had started to look like a spitting image of John in all but the eyes not long after- another thing Joseph was right about, they thought, but didn’t dare say. so The rumor that Sharky was the father had slowly come to an end because of the change. There was the crowd that has always known but kept it quiet whose suspicions were confirmed, and then those who had believed it were surprised and hurt for Sharky’s benefit until the man explained it was his idea in the first place. The fact that John was practically a new person, significantly more sane and on their side who treated the boy with nothing but love did wonders to ease what would’ve been monumental concerns pre-Bunker.

John had overheard one resident say as much, and came up with a drastic but not unwelcome solution.

He decided to officially close the book on ‘his old life.’ On a particularly quiet night when the Ryes were taking care of the kids, he and Nicolette had spoken about him taking her last name in the bunker’s ‘first and most likely only very loosely-defined, hardly binding’ common law marriage’ so Joseph’s claim about John _Seed_ dying could _officially_ be true; and the others would possibly feel a little more at ease. It also provided an opportunity to leave the last name that carried so much weight behind once it came time to leave the bunker. Nicolette had accepted, surprised at just how happy it had made her, and commented about it being ‘a good thing that Hurk Senior wasn’t around to go on about ‘the _man_ of the County’s big power couple _emasculating_ himself by taking the woman’s name’, decent reasoning or not.

John had called it a blessing and pulled her back to bed to _celebrate_ the milestone- and to stop her from making any other equally horrible jokes.

Things evened out after that. They might have even passed for being called normal, despite the situation being anything but.

Before long, they had reached the seven year mark, and everyone was over-eager to get out and see what remained of Hope County. There had been days of discussion between the bunkers about just when to leave. John had been the reluctant main speaker, insisting that all the claims he had heard and all that Joseph preached was that it was just “safe” to leave at that point- he had no idea _what_ would meet them outside, just that the world could be ‘made anew’ and innocent and the like.

Nicolette had figured keeping quiet about her own scattered dreams about it was the best approach. She didn’t need her friends being paranoid about her sanity after all of it. She was already paranoid enough, but she was happy that she wasn’t hearing any sort of Voice yet. She realized that was probably looking a gift horse in the mouth and daring something to happen. Then again, Joseph had never been stable. Maybe he had just gotten the crook end of too many deals. All that her subconscious gave her was grey skies that cleared, layers of ash on fields being dug away and and replaced with dirt- the world _recovering_.  And she was supposed to be front and center in making sure it went well in Hope County. She still couldn’t believe it.

As a county they decided to wait a couple of months, as much as it pained them to wait.

By the time “Leaving Day” was around the corner, everyone tried to coordinate plans: sate certain curiosities, go to their old homes, regroup the first night, work out what each individual wanted from there.

There was the fear that leftover Peggies were around- if not out there already, and were still loyal to Joseph, whether the man was still alive or not. It had been enough that most of them checked weapon caches.

Nicolette found it borderline insulting that Joseph had gained the visions that gave him all the answers and told him about potential enemies when she just got glimpses of eminent destruction pre-Collapse and just landscapes after.

It was just her luck, really.

It didn’t help that she was worried about Cal and Nikki and Tommy. It was supposedly going to be safe and liveable if they could trust Joseph’s word after all, but adults and teenagers had experienced life and conditions outside before bunker life. It was going to be a potentially dangerous situation for them, but for kids whose bodies didn’t have the experience in open air, it was probably going to be a bigger nightmare.

Of course, that didn’t stop the five and six year olds from being ecstatic about it, even with their minimal understanding of all the facts.

On Leaving Day, Cal had taken a flying leap onto John and Nicolette’s bed, sprawling on top of his parents who had naturally just managed to get to sleep after losing sleep over the fact that their time in the bunker might be over in less than twenty four hours or so.

It had woken up the Ryes from an equally restless sleep, and then Nikki had copied her friend and also pounced on them, encouraging them to get going for the day because they ‘wanted to see where their parents lived.’

Nick had looked to John and Nicolette for support for that one, and they had come up with the staple of ‘we’ll see.’

By the time the afternoon rolled around, every single person in the bunker was loitering in the man landing, just waiting. It took Nicolette a while to realize they were most likely waiting on her, considering she had been coined the defacto leader of the group. ‘We’ll… leave in an hour. Stick with the plan. It’s scouting for now- getting closure, if you need to. If you’re going out in a group, keep close, one person gets a radio, regroup with the one with the radio first. Be careful, be ready for anything....” she sighed. “And if it all works out, if everything’s safe… enjoy life, I guess?”

There was a mixture of applause and nervous energy merely manifesting after that. She shrugged. “Now go get whatever you and let’s get ready.”

The others cleared out after that to do just that.

Earl drifted over to her from the back of the crowd. “ _Definitely_ have to stop calling you Rook now. You’re the boss, I’m just an old man now.”

“Don’t you dare,” she countered. “And no, you’re not. Where are you going after this?”

“You tell me, Kid. Me dragging you here started this mess. It’s only fair that you call the shots here.”

“John and I talked about checking out the Ranch. It’s probably one of the only places left remotely standing around here. Come with us.”

“You got it,” Earl agreed. He pulled her into a hug. “You did it. You got us here.”

“Gotta get us out, too,” she pointed out.

“If it’s anyone who can do it, you can,” Earl replied. “You’ve made that clear enough already.”

She leaned into his shoulder briefly, then pushed off to go get whatever she could shove into a bag for later.

By the time the hour was up and everyone was hovering, waiting all over again, Nicolette led the way to the door and gave one final glance around. Another chapter of her life over and done, just like that, and a brand new one was about to swing open- literally. And it was probably going to be the most intense one yet. John was up front with her, shoulder to shoulder with Earl, who was giving Cal and Nikki beside him The Look. They had talked about that particular detail, too. They were worried for the kids but they knew there was no sense in being in denial they wouldn’t bolt for the door, so they had settled for keeping them corralled in one spot, and Earl had volunteered to be the extra voice of reason since both kids had picked up on the fact that even their parents did everything Earl said immediately, and they best do the same thing.

Nicolette made it the rest of the way up the stairs and the other residents followed. She opened the door with quite a bit of difficulty and swung it open.

Light blinded her, much like it had the first time she had opened Dutch’s bunker and arrived onto the same soil she was going to step into a few seconds later. Her vision cleared, thing evened out and she took in the sight to behold.

It was… far less horrible than expected. Most of Falls End was flattened or in ruins that she could see from there. It wasn’t lost on her that the Church seemed to be the building in the best shape of the bunch. More importantly, the fields looked mostly intact- trees were another story. But it was nothing like the greyed out visions of hers- the sky was blue, sun was still shining- it was an odd disconnect.

There were stunned murmurs from behind her, and then, more importantly, Cal declare “Cool!” before the sound of him running became a glaring priority. She stepped back, caught him around the middle and pulled him up. “Don’t even think about it,” she scolded. A moment later, something in the distance caught her eye, and she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. “John…”

The Yes sign was still standing, though it was frayed and discolored.

John looked where she had and huffed put a laugh. “Well…”

“There’s a you-shaped metaphor in there, somewhere,” Earl murmured to John.

John shot him an unreadable look.

Earl smiled reassuringly and clapped him on the back, and that had been that.

Cal looked between them, then at the sign. “Mommy, why did someone write ‘Yes’ on the hill?”

“Because they were very, very confused, Bud,” John cut in.

“Why were they confused?”

John laughed weakly. “Should’ve seen that coming. Maybe I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Nicolette shot him a puzzled look, and he shrugged. He looked up when Sharky stopped gawking in order to join them. “Where are you headed, Sharky?”

Sharky coughed and rubbed his neck. “Well, I figure there’s no chance in Hell that any of my shit or my house made it, so… was hopin’ I could come with y’all for company’s sake. And safety, in case uh… there are… mutated wild things around, or Capital P Problems, if you catch my drift.”

“We catch it,” Earl agreed.

Nicolette looped her free arm around Sharky’s neck. “Come on. Let’s go. Bigger group means less to organize later.”

Sharky absolutely beamed at the invite.

With a quick goodbye to the Ryes with a promise to regroup later that day, they headed towards the Ranch.

To their surprise and relief, they were the only living things around, so the walk was calm but hauntingly quiet aside from Cal’s occasional question and asking if every single remaining building they passed was where they lived.

The Ranch itself was weathered and crumpling in spots and the roof had caved in in the hangar and part of the house, the windows were blown out and there was varying rubble everywhere, but

Once they had made it onto the Ranch grounds and to the place, Cal was nearly beside himself when John had confirmed that yes, the giant house was where he used to live, no, he couldn’t go into it yet, _because they said so_.

John and Nicolette had gone inside to do a sweep for danger just in case, and Sharky and Earl had stayed outside with Cal to do a walk around the grounds, muttering an excuse that it was to show Cal around when it was just doing a sweep of their own.

The Great Room was all but obliterated, but they walked deeper into the main house that had significantly less damage. The structure was cracked in a few places but still intact- just required a few repairs and scrubbing every single inch of the place.

Nicolette glanced John’s way after a while. “Weird to be back?” she asked. “I expected this place to be worse off.”

“Had it built with the Collapse in mind. Had the most resilient materials put into it,” he looked around. “Only the best for my home.”

“You mean _mine,”_ she countered.

“You stole it,” he replied. “Besides, it ended up _ours_ in the end considering what we got up to the last time we were here, didn’t it? Ours _now_ , too, provided the rest of it is in this shape.”

“More like the _Survivors'_   if it’s in the best shape of anything in the county.”

“I’m not getting kicked out of my own place again. We can split it at best,” John pointed out. He drifted over to the staircase, put his foot up on the second step and lifted his other leg, testing it. It creaked, but didn’t give. He tested the next step, then the next- which gave out under him. “SHIT!” he landed hard, nearly slamming his chin onto the upper step.

Nicolette scrambled to help him, then dusted him off when he righted himself. “Right, so… climbing gear next time, just in case.”

“Guess the stairs weren’t reliable. I’d be angry if I didn’t know that the men who built them are most likely dead,” John huffed.

“John…” she scolded.

He pulled her against him. “You’re stuck with me now,” he pointed out. He leaned down in order to kiss her.

“Ewww!”

“Kid’s right, that don’t look like patrollin’, Mom and Dad!”

The other two turned to see Cal and Sharky in the doorway, the former latched onto the latter’s back. Earl was directly behind them, looking exhausted but amused at the others’ input.

John motioned at Cal to get down and come over, and Cal practically jumped off of Sharky to join them.

John  pulled him against his chest. “You have fun looking around?” he asked. “See anything?” the extra glance Sharky and Earl’s way made the other two realize it was directed at them rather than his son.

“All clear. It’s a ghost town,” Earl replied.

“Ghosts?!” Cal turned back towards him.

John chuckled. “We’ll protect you, Sport.”

Cal scrunched up his face. “But I _wanna_ see ghosts!” He noticed the broken steps and went to go investigate, but John pulled him back.

“Ah-ah, don’t touch anything. Just look.”

Cal sighed overdramatically before walking past them to look around. When he reached to fiddle with a nearby cabinet, John went over and scooped him up. “You’re as stubborn as your mother, you know that?”

“His _mother_?” Nicolette asked. “Dramatic, bit whiny, doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer well. Sounds like his father to me.”

John shot her a look, then looked at Earl and Sharky.

“Get a room,” Sharky supplied, just as Earl had merely shrugged at Nicolette’s point.

Cal tried twisting out of John’s grip to no avail. “Are we gonna live here now? I like it here. I can play outside!”

“Maybe, if some strange little boy stops touching everything,” Nicolette pointed out. She ruffled his hair.

Earl stepped in. “Come on, Kid. If the house is broken, it ain’t a good place to be for now.”

“But Mom and Dad and Uncle Sharky-”

“Are grown-ups. You’re a little one. And little ones…” he looked at the boy expectantly.

“ ‘Don’t make the rules’,” Cal recited with a sigh.

Earl nodded. “There we go. Let’s leave the grown-ups to make sure you can’t get into any more trouble.” He took the boy’s hand, and with a nod from John, led him outside.

The other three did a further run down of the house, and still only found minor structural damage. They didn’t dare try the upper floors just yet without the right equipment.

They went outside to regroup, only to see a group coming up the landing strip.

John reached for the gun he had hidden at his back on instinct.

Nicolette immediately smacked his hand down upon further inspection. “ADDIE?!”

Her hair was greying, but it was definitely her. The leader of the group looked up and beamed, opening her arms. “Nikki! I was countin’ on John being arrogant enough to come here first!”

Nicolette ran at her and threw her arms around her, and the older woman returned the hug just as adamantly. This was it. This was all that mattered. She had her entire found family back in person. That was all that mattered. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she had _them._

She scanned the people behind her, and sure enough she recognized Hurk Jr among them, just with a great deal more hair.

Sharky finally joined the group and upon seeing his family immediately launched himself into the hug that Hurk joined right after he did.

Nicolette pulled back, only to pull Addie right back into her. “God, it’s good to see you. Are you okay? How’d you make it out here?” then, far more worriedly: “ Is that all your bunker has left?”

“Better to see you, Nikki. And Hurk’s Gate found itself a truck and got a gas reserve and brought it down into our bunker before the world went to shit,” Addie explained. “The place was rigged for military vehicles- had a whole bunch, extra gas and all. Jacob’s paws were _allllllll_ over that. And no. Turns out Hurk’s Gate was a very happenin’ place towards the end there. And some of them got a head start on repopulation.”

She looked back at Hurk and the others. “Please stop there.”

“Hypocrite,” Addie teased and smacked her on the cheek playfully.  “Now, speaking of, where’s my favorite little radio buddy?” she asked, trying to be heard over Sharky and Hurk launching themselves at each other and talking excitedly.

Nicolette stepped back and motioned at Earl and Cal. “Cal, Hon, come here. This is your Aunt Addie, remember she’s been talking to you on the radio?”

Cal’s look of confusion dropped and he looked stunned, then grinned from ear to ear. “Aunt Addie?!”

Addie waved. “Hi, Honey!”

Cal hurried over to her and immediately wrapped himself around her legs. “Hi!”

Addie beamed again and rubbed his back. “Come here, let me get a good look at you,” she bent down. “Oh, those eyes are your momma’s but you are allllll your daddy, Honey. You’re gonna be a heartbreaker someday.”

“Conversation over,” John chimed in. He practically pried Cal off of her.

Addie’s smile turned devious. “Hi to you too, John.”

“Hi, Adelaide. Good to see you,” John deadpanned.

Addie looked at Nicolette. “You trained him well.”

John scoffed.

Addie motioned at the house. “Anything salvageable? We have a base for the New World or whatever? I ain’t callin’ it Eden, even if that batshit brother of yours _did_ end up being right.”

John bristled at the last part, so Nicolette stepped between them. “From what we saw, it could use some work, but it’s standing. It’s a start, we just need to get supplies together. Anything by you in good shape?”

“The Marina’s barely standing, but it the stuff underground is okay. Prison didn’t look half bad either, but that might just have a stigma against it, now. You two lovebirds’ll be happy to know that Landsdowne looks like it survived.”

Earl squinted. “What’s so special about Lands-”

“ _Nothing,_ ” John and Nicolette said together. They shot Addie a look.

Addie shrugged, then something darker crossed her features. “Wheaty mentioned taking the Whitetails up to the Veteran Center- same stigma, but they’re more ‘take it back for Good’ people.”

Nicolette shuddered. “I hope it’s the first thing that got destroyed.”

“Same here with the prison,” Earl added.

There were a few scattered murmurs of agreement.

After a while, Addie looked around. “Well, ain’t no point in us just hangin’ around. Let the _Raylans_ start gettin’ their house in order if this is gonna be home base. Earl, Honey, why don’t you, me and the boys go see what else is out there?” she walked over to the man and by the way he suddenly jerked, the others figured she had swatted his ass.

“You haven’t changed,” Earl deadpanned, but let him lead her away all the same. Cal hurried after them, immediately launching into questions about their own experiences ‘outside.’

Figuring Sharky, Hurk and the other Hurk’s Gate survivors were too busy wrapped up in their own conversation, Nicolette drifted over to John when he had turned back to the house. “Must be a lot to take in.”

“The last eight years have been a lot to take in. This… my brothers and I prepared for this.  Well, mentally anyway, until some annoying Deputy decided to ruin everything.”

“Yeah, well, some cultist asshole got stabbed in the back, came to me for help and then I found out he was human after all and feelings got in the way, complicated history between us and all.”

“Fucking feelings,” John agreed. He pulled her against him, looking at her intently. After a beat, he dropped his forehead to hers. “I don’t regret a thing.”

“Not even the drowning, the attempted torture?”

“You were a strong swimmer, and you and I both know that was all talk.”

“... How fucked up are we that we’re joking about this?”

“Oh, _extremely,”_ John replied. “But considering we _do_ talk about it…” he trailed off.

She grunted in agreement and shrugged. A moment later, she shrieked when he picked her up. “What’re you doing?!”

“Starting on Addie’s plan and carrying _my wife_ across the closest thing to a threshold we’ve got. And then she had a point about repopulation. If Joseph was right about everything, I’ve still got the option of dying _old_. And I’m damn well gonna make sure you’re gonna be here the whole time.”

She huddled closer to him at that, then grinned. “We already went inside. Kind of defeats the purpose.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“And as far as repopulation goes everyone is _right there_ -”

“We can send Cal back Earl’s way and have them go help scout with the Ryes, and well, we both know Sharky would hardly complain-”

“Please stop talking, pick a door and try not to fall through anything this time. We’ll handle that to-do list one step at a time.”  

“Fine. As you wish.”

“Well _you’re_ laying it on thick.”

“Probably the excess oxygen in the air than what we’ve been used to.”

“Oh _my God_ ,” she supplied, then shrieked again when he turned on his heel sharply and headed for the house again.

Yeah. They’d be okay. Eden was going to be a bitch to manage, but they were all made of stronger stuff. Still, whether or not it was her divine duty or not, she was responsible for the entire crew. She’d be damned before she failed them- in the religious sense or otherwise.

* * *

Meanwhile, miles away, a man sat in the charred, broken remains of a church, waited for a sign and prayed for the chance of a brother’s forgiveness that might never come.

 

 

 


End file.
